Cat And Mouse
by Cicero-Phelps
Summary: Taking the war to the enemy, Rick, Lisa, and the SDF-1 crew are at their most crucial juncture. Will they survive? (COMPLETE)
1. Default Chapter

Cat And Mouse

A Sequel to "Racing the Bullet"

Disclaimer:  I do not own these characters, nor do I profit in any way, shape, or form from these stories.  May Harmony Gold and the rightful owners keep that in mind in case they think they want to assume all of my college loan debts for payment.

As promised, the trivia:

The RDF Governing Council works kind of like how the ship usually operates: Gloval at the top of the food chain and the various departments working under him.  However, for the reconstruction of the Earth, or, at least, New Macross, Gloval also has civilian departments under his umbrella.  For the purposes of this storyline, Admiral Gloval and the mayor of New Macross share joint authority, and alternate monthly as the chairman of the Joint Ruling Council.

The ranks are somewhat like the actual military, however, I did add some Galactic Empire ranks from Star Wars, namely Wing Captain and Line Captain.  These ranks are basically mirror images of each other; a Line Captain in the Navy commands a small squadron of vessels, while a Wing Captain in the Air Force (Or Naval Air Force, in Rick's case) commands an entire wing of aircraft, which is 6 squadrons, or 72 aircraft.

The tech herein will be somewhat of a crossover with Battletech, being as the two worlds are somewhat similar in mech design, and all combat details will be written as determined by the roll of two two-sided dice.  (When I play Battletech at gaming conventions, Destroid toys usually symbolize some of the Mechs that are in play, and there is a Destroid on the cover of the 3rd Edition box set of Battletech, so I felt that this would be a natural blending.)

I have to admit, my first foray into fan fiction authorship did not develop along the lines of the smash I had deluded myself into thinking that I'd get.  And perhaps some of you out there are dismayed at the changes I've brought into the Robotech universe; however, I've always wanted to do an alternate reality story, and finally settled upon the perfect timeline to do it in.  What happened in the two years between "Force of Arms" and "Reconstruction Blues" has never been explored in fiction on this site, and I am unaware of its existence elsewhere, as well.  I humbly ask that all Rick/Lisa fans out there, and fans of the SDF-1 crew in general, bear with me for the moment, I think you'll enjoy the ride.  And if you don't, well, I'll see that in the reviews as well, then, won't I?

************************************************************************

Brief recap: Admiral Henry J. Gloval lays in intensive care under 24/7 surveillance, as Claudia, Kim, Vanessa, and Sammie are imprisoned in the brig after Maistroff pulls off a coup.  Rick, Lisa, Max, and Miriya are all missing, as Periscope Flight was the victim of unexplained mecha failures right before the catastrophic Siege of Macross City; their escorts, Rogue and Wraith squadrons, escaped, along with two divisions of Destroids and one additional squadron of Valkyrie fighters, Hawkeye squadron.  The SDF-1 took severe structural damage from Destroid mounted rail guns and acid shots, and martial law reigns in the streets.  The Zentraedi have all been expelled from Macross City, on orders from Maistroff, and are extremely upset by that move.

*************

            I peered through the gaps in my fingers at the crystal clear blue sky above me.  It had been a long time since I could just lay back and enjoy the comforts of nature.

            And it would be a longer time, still, until I can afford to do so again.

            Beside him, I heard a soft, feminine sigh.  I looked sidelong at my companion, Lisa Hayes, my new fiancée, the woman I had waited my whole life for, the woman who I had fought tooth and nail with since I joined the service but now was equal in rank to, the woman to whom my soul belonged.  Her long, reddish brown hair billowed out beside and around her head, draped like a scarf around my head, over my own hair.  I felt as if this was our own little piece of Heaven, and I never wanted to leave the cloud we were on.

            It was now three months after Maistroff conducted a coup against our beloved leader, Admiral Henry J. Gloval, and threw the entire RDF into disarray.  

Three months of guerilla raids along supply lines and patching up the damage that the RDF Rebels had wrought upon them.  

Our losses had been severe; they originally had three VT squadrons, Rogue, Wraith, and Hawkeye, but as a result of the pounding that harassing teams had delivered; they lost half of the Rogues and a quarter of the Wraiths.  That was a severe blow; Rogue Squadron was the most seasoned fighter group in the RDF after Skull Squadron, and the Wraiths were third.  The Hawkeyes were the newest of the new recruits, and, thus, were fresh in the saddle, unused to the rigors of combat.  But the losses could not be avoided, and they had to make do.  They mixed the survivors of Rogue and Wraith Squadrons with recruits from Hawkeye Squadron, making, effectively, two full VT squads.

For the first time, I thanked whoever signed me and my people up for counter-insurgency and commando training.  They organized the mechs they had, which were approximately 36 fighters (after losses) and 40 Destroids into four companies of mecha; each captain, me, Lisa, Max, and Miriya, were in command of a company of mecha.  Within each company, we had ten Destroids and nine Valkyrie fighters to command.  One VT was reserved for the commanding officer of the company, leaving eight to distribute, and each company was further divided into four lances of four; two VT's and two Destroids constituted a lance, with the remaining two Destroid units in each company serving as sentries and scouts.  So sixteen under-strength lances of mecha and eight scouts against the combined might of the RDF under the control of a renegade general.

I sighed, feeling the ache of every muscle I had, including a few I had forgotten about.

Lisa looked at me.  "What's the matter, Rick?"

"Oh, it's nothing, I guess.  It's just that I sometimes feel overwhelmed when I think of the overall picture of our situation.  When will this ever stop?"

"Only when humanity loses the will to fight."

"Right, I forgot.  And that only happens when the world up and dies en masse, right?"

"More or less."

"Great," I groaned, rubbing my forehead.  

She looked like she was going to say something further, when a runner appeared at the edge of the clearing.  "Captain Hunter!  Captain Hunter, sir!"

I sat up, grumbling.  "This had better be important," I whispered.  "Yes, what do you want," I shouted.

"Colonel Barton, commander of the 406th Veritech Flight Group sends his regards and compliments, sir.  He also sent over this packet for your consideration, sir," Corporal Juan Diaz, pilot of VT-1040, first flight pair in my company, said to me.

"Tell the colonel that I send my regards, as well, and his information is well regarded and received.  Dismissed, corporal," I said, offering my salute.

"What does Harry want with us now," Lisa asked.

I looked over the packet's contents and felt a surge of emotion.  "Get Max and Miriya together now.  We need to hold a command conference immediately."


	2. Council of War

Chapter II 

"And you're sure this information is correct," Miriya was saying

I pondered the remark carefully before I replied.  Max was faster on the draw, saying, "He's never been wrong before.  How else could we have destroyed that armor convoy last week?"

"Past performance doesn't necessarily indicate future performance, Max," I said.  "However, there is a certain logic to his information.  And Howe is surely hot on our trails now, isn't he?"

"Maistroff certainly put a lot of faith in Howe's skills," Max remarked.

"Well, he did wipe out the majority of our VT losses," Miriya said.  "And he's denied us every other base of operations thus far.  This may be our first opportunity to gain an ally in our mission…"

"No way, there must be an alternative," Lisa declared.

We all looked at her.  This was definitely not the way she usually behaved.  "Uh, Lisa?"

"He was in my class at the Academy, the son of my father's rival for power in the former government.  He was accused of sexual misconduct, but, due to his father's influence, and the fact that the woman involved recanted her story, the charges were dropped, and he was permitted to graduate," Lisa growled.

"We can always hope he's changed, Lisa," I said, half-heartedly.  "Besides, we need all the help we can get.  We need to get back to Gloval, don't we?"

"True enough, Rick, but I will not ally myself with that reprobate, that refugee from an asylum!"

"Well, with luck, you won't have to deal with him, only me.  But we are going to move out and try to get to Seattle in order to reach that repair station.  At 0000, we move.  Meantime, we break for chow and some last minute rest.  Wake the pilots in three hours, we'll prep an hour before we leave."

"A word about our present status, Rick?" Miriya asked

"Fire away."

"May I remind you that we're low on fuel for the mechs, and are at especially critical limits on hydraulic fluid for the VT transformation plant.  If we take more losses and push the mechs farther than the designers intended, then we run the risk of losing their transformation abilities.  And the missile tubes are running low on reloads."

Three months ago, if anyone had suggested that we'd be engaged in a guerilla war against our own military, we'd have laughed in his or her face.

"Miriya, I understand that we're running low on supplies, but that's why we're trying to make the run to Seattle.  We should be okay, as long as we don't encounter a column of assault mechs.  But we need to get to Seattle, for the sake of our survival.  Now, get some food, grab some sleep, and make sure the pilots, especially the scouts, are fully aware of their roles.  Dismissed."

Max and Miriya both left, but Lisa remained, as I dropped my head into my hands.  "I don't think allying ourselves with Barton is the right decision, Rick."

"I have my doubts, Lisa.  But we need allies, too.  And I hope that his offer is genuine, because it's the only offer that we can feasibly take in order to preserve our efforts."

"A forced march over 60 miles of terrain, to meet with a dubious ally, with our mechs at this level of performance…"

"I know what we're facing, dammit!"

She let her jaw drop, and I clapped a hand over my mouth.  "I don't know where that came from, Lisa, I'm sorry."

"No, you were right.  I shouldn't have added stress."

"I'm sorry.  The way we're going, we'll be married and buried on the same day."

"Don't think that way, Rick.  You'll bring us through all of this.  And I will never leave your side, not for a minute."

"Thanks, Lisa.  Time for some food and a nap, don't you think?"

She grinned.  "Depends on what you wanted to dine on, Mr. Hunter."

"You're a mind-reader now," I joked playfully.

We joined the pilots in the mess tent, joyfully wolfing down some Shepherd's pie, and tried to banish the realities of war from our thoughts.  However, I couldn't help, as de facto commander of this mini rebellion, but replay the previous maneuvers and battles that had brought us this far.

The afternoon that Periscope Flight went down, Gloval was shot, in a brilliant coup executed by Maistroff.  Pilots from Rogue Squadron evacuated Lisa, Max, Miriya, and me; two pilots decided to grab us before obeying the squadron leader's order to save themselves and regroup.  We made a frantic run into the surrounding hills to avoid the search and destroy crews, but half of the escaping forces were destroyed or severely damaged.  New Macross was built near to the location of the old city of Juneau, so we knew it wasn't too far from the old boundary of Canada.  We hightailed it out of Juneau, avoiding Maistroff's nightly bombing raids.

Now, we had about 65 miles to march the pilots and mechs in order to reach the relative safety of Col. Barton's resupply base.  And it was relatively forested terrain; if we were caught in a bombing raid, there wouldn't be much we could do to evade the firebombs that he'd drop on us, given half a chance.

The nightmares haunt me frequently, and my hair is tinged ever so slightly with a vague hint of gray on the back of my neck.  I'm only 24, but my body is starting to look and feel like a man ten years older.  Lisa's hand trembles as we walk towards the tent together, knowing as I do that every night together may be our last.  The service is a hell of a way to meet and fall in love, but I guess it worked for us.  

I stopped in front of the tent, signaling for attention.

"Good evening, guys and gals.

"In three hours, we break camp and head south towards Seattle.  We have been promised a refuge and resupply area by Col. James Barton of the 406th.  There is a distance of 65 miles to cross, and we'll have six hours of darkness in which we could cloak our movements.

"Before we form up, I want each scout pilot up and ready fifteen minutes before the rest of the main body.  We will deploy in four columns, marching four deep, two pairs shoulder to shoulder.  I want scouts flanking every part of the line; two in front, two in back, and two on the left and right flanks.  Keep alert; we may have company waiting for us.  Now, go back to your tents and get some sleep.  We'll all need it."

Lisa held my hand as we both collapsed on our cots, completely exhausted, unaware of a truly restful sleep, and not sure if we were prepared for this next journey.


	3. Midnight Massacre

Chapter III 

2300 came as we rubbed our eyes and tried to keep the blankets on just a little while longer.  I assumed that most of the rest of the pilots were attempting to do the same, but we had to show a unified front, so we struggled into warmer jackets to fight late autumn's chill.  I poked my head out of the tent and summoned, in a hushed voice, "Jiminez, come here for a minute."

Alicia Jiminez was an ace pilot with the Rogues, and was my XO, while Max took lead of Mech Division III.  "Yes, Captain Hunter?"

"I need you to make last-minute checks of everyone's weapon loads.  Make sure that they have at least 1,000 rounds of ammunition apiece.  And make damn sure the guys know that they have to ice those itchy trigger fingers of theirs."

"Aye, aye, Captain," she said, in a sultry, Latin-laced accent.

"Watch them eyes, bucko," I heard a playful voice behind me as Alicia's figure marched away.

"I only have eyes for you, Lisa," I smiled.  "But let's get up and at em, shall we?"

"Let's shall," she smirked.

I yelled as I left my tent, "Butler, Carson, and Morgan, get your squads up and let's start dismantling this complex.  I want Able Company to take down the mess tent, Baker Company to collapse the Infirmary, and Charlie Company to take down the sleeping quarters.  Move out."

Max and Miriya stumbled out into the raw, frigid night, looking at us like we were insane.  "You gotta be kidding me," he yawned.  "An hour early, you're up and at it.  Where'd you get all that energy?"

"It would be great," Miriya noted, "if he could share his secret with the rest of us here."

"Har har, guys.  Now, let's check the map one more time. There's a chance, as always, that Howe will make a night run at our forces.  I want the Riflemen Destroid units to take a front line point in the column tonight.  I just have a bad feeling about this march."

A thundering sound approached us from our left rear, and we looked backwards into a herd of fleeing Zentraedi. "They're coming, they're coming," one of them yelled.

"I _really_ need to stop saying things like that," I sighed.

"Who's coming," Lisa asked.

"Colonel Howe's men," the lead one answered as he paused for a second to catch his breath.  "They attacked us in the middle of the night, no warning, no chance to return fire.  They lobbed a few firebombs into the middle of our encampment and rushed in with their Hatchetman Destroids.  Then, as we fled the fires, they dismembered women, children, the sick and dying.  They're coming after us!"  He ran off again.

I saw Max cross himself, and I shouted, "Everyone, belay your last orders and scramble.  Interdiction defense, priority Indigo.  Everyone to your mechs and lets stop this massacre."

I looked out over the trees surrounding our campsite and saw the most hideous death-bringing machine I ever wish to see in my life.  There were four 30-foot behemoths armed with a huge autocannon rifle, three pulse laser batteries, and, on their right forearms, a menacing hatchet dripping with blood.  I saw three blips on my radar screen, three flights of aerial attackers armed with some kind of ordinance; my guess was the remainder of the firebombs that Howe didn't get to use on the Zentraedi refugees.  "Riflemen, form ranks.  I want you to take those fighters apart bolt by bolt."

Huge streaks of crimson light leapt forward from the barrels of the pulse lasers in the AA battalion.  The atmospheric fighter craft bearing down on us didn't blink.  Soon, we were swarming with a dozen standard fighters overhead.  Jiminez took her time and lined up her shots. One fighter saw the fleeing Zentraedi and decided to make a chase out of it.  Her weaponry cored it as it swung around for another pass.  Its flight pair responded by landing a deuce of flamers on the mess tent, destroying vital supplies and a few pilots who couldn't get to their craft in time.  

Lisa, Max, and Miriya were taking positions in the compound, armed and ready for the fight.  I finished my preflight list and targeted the nearest Hatchetman with my head lasers.  By this time, the monstrosity had closed to the edge of our camp and had begun taking wild swings at any Zentraedi within reach that were too slow.  I fired my head lasers, hitting with one, which caused him to slow his wild advance for a second.  He then acquired me as a target.  The pilot was apparently crazed; he decided to charge, swinging his hatchet wildly.  It damaged him more than it damaged me; even though my torso looked banged up on the right side, the damage from his charge went straight to his head.  A good start to a bad night, I thought.  "Surrender now, and we'll let you live," I told the enemy pilot.

"An offer like that can only be made by a person in a position lacking decisive strength," he replied.  "What are you afraid of, rookie?  Death?"

I bit my tongue.  This man was obviously crazed.  I fired my autocannon at him, giving his right torso thorough air conditioning.  He, in turn, fired his pulse lasers at me, missing, but illuminating the darkness immediately surrounding me.  I took a quick glance at my screen, and it looked as if Lisa, Max and Miriya were all dueling with similar Hatchetmen, so I turned my attention back to the problem at hand.

I transformed into Guardian mode and fired my missiles at him from his upper left side.  The first volley hit his right torso again, tearing an even greater gap in his armor.  The next two volleys hit his center torso.

"This is insane," I screamed at him.  "What are you trying to accomplish?"

"The recapture of our planet from an alien invasion, and the punishment of the invaders and their sympathizers."

"What makes you think you're better than the Zentraedi?"

"Look at what Dolza did to Earth," he snarled.  "I want it back the way it was before the Line."

"You oughta talk to a shrink about this," I noted angrily.  "You're getting delusions again." My anger was increasing with every minute, offended beyond sensibility at the mindless butchery that he and his men had caused.

The anti-aircraft fire from the Riflemen had made all the fighters disappear or melt under their withering fire.  Eight pulse lasers are nothing to sneeze at, and their fire definitely thinned the air that was choked with fighters. I turned my attention back to my opponent and lanced another autocannon burst into him.  I struck his cannon and made him lose his hatchet.  He turned up towards me and fired again, hitting my right torso and right leg.  _If this keeps up, he'll ruin my paint job,_ I thought.

I had finally had enough.  I opened into him with everything at once, not caring about the ammo expended, or the heat I was generating.  The cannon blew off his right arm and melted away his right torso.  I saw fire coming out of his engine, but my fury caused me not to care.

"Rick, Howe's men got word that their mechs are being taken apart bolt by bolt.  An assault lance is on its way," Lisa said.

"I'll be along in a minute," I snarled, firing my lasers.  The enemy's mech tried to fire its cannon in reply, but it exploded in mid-burst.  I took immense pride in knowing his lasers couldn't work at the close range I was at, so I kept up a full, withering fire upon him.  I fired my cannon again, melting his left arm, then, firing the lasers, melted his left and center torso.  His entire mech was a sorry sight of melted metal, but I couldn't stop firing at him.  I fired my cannon again, nailing his left torso, and melted more of his center torso with the lasers.  His repeated cries for mercy and offers to surrender were like whispers in the wind as I kept up my unrelenting rain of hell upon him.  My last cannon burst destroyed his center torso, and the explosion was enough to blind me for a few minutes afterwards.

"Damage report," I rasped, my breathing vary ragged.

"We lost two Destroids, and several VT's took heavy damage.  Our autocannon ammunition is almost completely expended; the pilots were a tad eager tonight, Rick," Lisa reported.

"We've gotta move fast, Lisa," I noted.  "Any fatalities tonight?"

"We lost Baker and Coolidge, and Jiminez is holding on to life by a thread; her mech took a near-direct hit with a firebomb.  She's lucky she made it out alive at all."

I winced.  This war kept getting harder all the time.  "Prepare to burn our baggage, guys.  We need to march swiftly and silently, and we start when the fires are burning.  Commence immediately," I said, trying to choke back a few silent tears.

Butler and Anderson stepped forward, using their lasers to incinerate the camp and supply depot, then took up their formation at the rear of the column as we departed.  The fire swirled around the encampment, taking to the stars with the embers of ash the souls of our fallen pilots.

********

AN: I will scan and publish my Mechwarrior sheets upon request.  And pardon if I'm slow with the updates, it is the holidays and I work in retail.  Happy Holidays.


	4. The Best Laid Plans

Chapter IV 

            We marched about 10 miles away from the campsite, when Lisa radioed in, "Rick, what is our next move?"

            "Well, we have to get to Seattle as fast as we can, to rehabilitate the injured, and to join forces with the 50 mecha and 10,000 infantry that Barton can command and field against Maistroff.  We'd better start now."

            "But what about the refugees," Miriya asked.  "We can't just abandon them."

            "Miriya, I'd love to help them, but taking along a dozen 40 foot humanoids would kind of eliminate our attempts at being stealthy."

            "We also can't leave them to Howe's tender mercies, Rick," Max chipped in.

            "I know, I know…"

            "Why not leave a guard of four Destroids to guard them, while we march to Seattle," Lisa asked.

            "And what happens if we encounter this same situation again, Lisa," I asked, rhetorically.  "We'll fight them, suffer some casualties, have to guard refugees, and then leave more units to protect them.  We cannot be ten-percented to death."

            All of us fell silent for a few moments as I thought heavily.  What should we do about these refugees?  They're unarmed, unarmored, we have no food or other provisions to take care of them with, and they're a dead giveaway if a search party goes overhead to find us.  Of course, our own electronics would be dead giveaways, but at least we'd have the ability to defend ourselves.

            But the opposite facts were also true.  Howe and his men would keep sending their butchermechs after the refugees until they were all dead.  It was only sixty miles, anyway.  Barton would probably have some way of taking care of them, once we got there. 

            I decided to split the difference.  "Miriya, select three of your top pilots to join you.  We'll leave you guys to guard the refugees until they can recoup and get moving to safety.  We'll get to Seattle and send reinforcements and supplies should you need them."

            "Aye, sir.  Holmes, Washington and Watson, break ranks and stand with me."

            I bid the three pilots Godspeed, and then broke up the remaining lances in her column amongst the three remaining divisions.  

            "Shouldn't we try to get Barton's attention, boss?"

            "We should try to maintain radio silence if at all possible, Max," I said.  "But try it on an alternating frequency, see if he responds."

            "We're getting a response, Captain," came back Max's ace radioman, Frederic Jomphe-Staadt, also known as Jump Start.

            "What is it, Jump Start?"

            "It says that Barton's base is under siege, and cannot offer reinforcements to us in the field.  However, if we make it to his base, we can repair and refit our mechs as long as there are supplies to do so."

            Charming.  Fifty-five miles from salvation, and it becomes purgatory.  I really didn't want to use our jet engines, we were low on fuel; but the situation dictated that we abandon all thoughts of conservation, because if we didn't, then Barton's base might not be able to supply us, and the rebellion would falter.

            "Okay, people, change of plans.  All Destroid units, hold position.  Form a defense cordon around the refugees.  We're going to aid Col. Barton, and we'll come back to get you in the morning.  Protect the refugees at all costs.  Miriya, you're still in command.  We'll wait for your signal at dawn."

            She looked over and nodded at me.  "All VT squadrons, take off in hover mode and assume flight capabilities.  Conserve your fuel best you can, but don't be Scrooge-like.  We have comrades to save," I signaled, turning my craft into a Guardian.

            Soon, all 36 fighters were airborne and winging their way towards the beleaguered Seattle base.  A half hour later, we saw the base under constant missile and PPC fire.  Particle cannons are no laughing matter. They hurt like hell, and they cook off a fair amount of armor per hit.  They also added a heavy-duty assault mech, the Atlas, to their artillery.  The thick ferrocrete walls were crumbling, and looked like they wouldn't stand much more punishment.

            "Okay, gals and pals, Treble Wave formation.  Lisa, lead the Hawks to take out the PPC emplacements.  Max, ride in with the Wraiths and target the LRM launchers.  I'll take the Rogues to clean up the wonderful mess that that assault mech is making."

            A chorus of affirmatives greeted my ears, and I hit the jamming frequencies and signaled my flight leaders.  "Murdock, Parker, we swing like a door.  Line your flights up around my fighter, making me the hinge.  On my cue, we hit that mech from behind so fast it'll think that the Second Coming is at hand.  Move."

            Lisa's pilots took out the five cannons, and Max's crew disabled the LRM launchers.  However, the Atlas had become enraged, taking down several VT's with its gauss rifle (rail gun) and LRM 20 launcher.  My pilots formed up and flew towards its back, exposed like the broadside of a ship in a surging ocean.  Twelve autocannons opened up on him.  Eight of the streams hit.  His backside and his legs looked like pure hell.  Then, we opened up with our LRM launchers and really gave it hell.  Every volley was on target.  The mech never knew what had hit it.  The pilot could not have survived the explosion, either, and a small fusion explosion is not a pretty picture.

            "Captain Hunter, sir," cried the radio.

            "The one and only, base."

            A warm chuckle replied.  "This is Colonel Barton of the 406th.  Permission is granted for you and your pilots to land and rest."

            There was loud cheering on the all-hands channel, and I replied, "Sounds like the best idea I've heard all night, sir.  But while we're at it, our Destroids need to be relieved, as well.  Could you send out a force to replace them at the coordinates I'm sending you?"

            "Received and will comply.  You saved our collective asses, Hunter.  Now get your pilots and yourself down here for some hot grub and a good night's sleep.  We'll refit you guys in the sunshine."

            "Coming in, Hunter out."

*******

AN: Sorry about the delay.  Retail around the holidays is not what one would call relaxing or pleasant.  But here I am, back to active duty, ready to pick up where my chapters left off.  Regarding the Atlas and its destruction: I made it a little oversimplified, but a total surprise attack is possible.  After all, if its sensors are jammed, then it can't tell who's attacking it.  And when I did the rolling (per the dice rules I mentioned in my introduction, though it's a 2d6 instead), the VT's hit with their A/C 10's and twin LRM 5 launchers.  For those of you not familiar with Battletech, it's an autocannon 10 and long range missile pack 5.  The VT fighters carry two of them each, equaling a punch of 12 LRM 10 packs.  All of the missiles hit.  Per normal rules, I'd roll for each five point cluster of damage to the Mech I was attacking, but if a Mech gets nailed by 120 missiles on its backside, even a 100-ton Mech with a fair amount of armor, it ain't gonna last too long.  As always, data sheets are available upon request.

Further note:  The VT customized variants I've created are using level 3 technology as used in the supplement book, Maximum Tech.  They are 75 tons each, have central cockpits, turret heads, and CASE II bays (ammo explosion containment units).  Anyone seeking a further explanation of this is welcomed to email me.


	5. Quality Time

**_Chapter V_**

            I didn't remember eating or drinking anything that night, only the fact that my stomach was content and my eyes were bleary.  I sat in the dark, my room lit only by a single candle, full of worry for Jiminez, as her injuries were extensive and hard to treat.  I desperately did not want to write another letter to a grieving parent.  Of course, that probably wasn't necessary at this point, considering the extent of the global casualties at the start of The Line, but the reduced potential of a necessity is a necessity all the same.  I recalled Lisa's sermon about the sanctity of life, but that still didn't make me happy.  All I could recall was the dread of losing a pilot and the knot in my stomach when it came to writing useless platitudes to console a family filled with grief beyond the capacity to think logically.  How did I manage to write Ben Dixon's family?  I thought back, remembering that it took me several sleepless nights and zombified days to achieve the perfect communiqué.

            _Dear Mr and Mrs. Dixon,_

_            I am writing this letter to you to communicate the true circumstances surrounding the loss of your son, Benjamin Franklin Dixon, in combat with the Zentraedi forces, commanded by Khyron, over the city of Toronto last month._

_            We had received word that the civilians aboard the SDF-1 would receive sanctuary in Toronto, due to the consent of their government, even though that hope was short-lived.  Ben, another squadron member named Maximillian Sterling, and I all went into town to celebrate the good fortunes of the civilians and, also, my recent promotion to squadron leader of the Skull Squadron.  We were in the middle of eating our dinners when the Klaxons went off on the intercom.  Ben, Max, and I all ran towards our planes, and we became airborne.  The dogfight became very intense, but Ben kept his head and flew well, downing three enemy fighters.  The SDF-1 was testing an experimental barrier field to protect against Zentraedi lasers, and the field took a pounding as we fought the enemy aircraft.  Eventually, the order came through to evacuate the area, as the field was chain-reacting.  Unfortunately, Ben's engines failed him as we attempted to escape the onslaught of expanding energy._

_            I write these words to you with a heavy heart, knowing that a good pilot and friend is lost to me, and more importantly to you, but also with pride, as it has been a distinct privilege to have known your son, to fly with him, and to be his commanding officer.  I know that none of these words are going to eliminate your grief concerning his death, but I hope you find comfort in knowing that his life and his service made an active difference in the lives of the citizens of Macross City, and the people of Earth.  May God grant you peace and comfort in this time of grief._

_Sincerely,_

            Et cetera, et cetera.  I copied that format for each of my pilots lost on the Line, but, happily for me, I didn't have to write them too often.  Still, the stress was starting to get to me.  Nobody ever likes to lose a subordinate, and nobody likes to lose a friend.  What hit me the hardest was that, instead of Jiminez, it could have been Lisa that was almost killed.  I cursed the rebels, Maistroff, and the necessity of war.  Not that it was a productive endeavor; my cursing would have no immediate military effect.  
            All of the mecha I'd brought in to Barton was well-worn, some were severely damaged, and, absent the officer's mechs, none were in true fighting shape.  Three months of continuous fighting had taken its toll on the fighters we loved and depended on.  I'd kept up a good show of morale for the troops, for Lisa, for Max and Miriya, but I think they all knew how close it had been, as well.

            "Hey, you alright?"

            I looked up, and saw the shining star in my sky, the only woman I would fight to the death to protect, and, even after dying, I'd find the strength to get back up and still kill the s.o.b. who was trying to harm her.

            "Yes, I'm okay, I'm just tired."

            "You can't fool everyone, Rick.  I know that look."

            "Okay, okay, so I'm worried that we'll lose another pilot.  Geez, why does it have to be this way?"

            "You're too hard on yourself," she said, soothingly.  "Alicia was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and she didn't react fast enough.  Things happen in combat, remember?"

            "Ah, like the time you put a full barrage of reflex warheads into my VT."

            "You remembered," she grinned.

            "I'd always wanted to try a hot spring, and you gave me that chance," I commented.

            "And you told me that it was your fault for being there, and that it wasn't my fault for firing when I did.  Why are the rules any different now?"

            "I'm just afraid of being only a butcher of my own men.  I'm afraid that anything we do won't matter much, that we'll fail."

            "Look into my eyes, Rick."

            I stared into her eyes and lost myself in their warm, rich, full depths.  Green satin enveloped my soul as I looked, and her beauty drowned my sorrows.  I felt my tension slip away, falling to the ground in defeat as her hands moved to my shoulders.  Her grip tightened ever so slightly around my shoulders, stabilizing my body.  

"No matter how this war goes, win or lose, and no matter how badly our forces are mauled, as long as I live, as long as my heart beats and my brain functions, I will never leave your side," she said.  "Your love changed me, Rick.  I was ice-cold for many years, lost in a world of chaos and depression, after losing Karl.  I pushed everyone away and resigned myself to death.  But then you swooped down like an angel from the Martian sky and saved me from my self-imposed tomb.  I had almost given up on humanity, thinking that no one cared if I lived or died, and that I would not be missed.  Granted that you were acting on orders, but you saved me, and saw within me enough life left to be worthy of saving.  You wouldn't let me give up then, and I will not let you give up now.  Even if it's only you, me, Max and Miriya, we will stop this war, and we will stop the plague from scourging the earth."

I smiled and said, "Thank you, Lisa, I never knew how deeply you felt like that."

"Here's proof," she smiled, leaning forward.

Our lips met tenderly, but with a kinetic energy that surprised me.  Our arms tangled furiously as we tried to get comfortable.  We exploded in a torrent of kissing, embraces, and pillow talk as we comforted each other's fears.  It was heaven, pure and simple.  How a gentle touch and a kind word could change all the evil and demonic power in my soul, I'll never know.  Then again, I'm a pilot, not a poet.  That's a poet's job to figure out.  My job was to defend the poet and his right to write.  But I decided to be creative that night, and, though I'm no Shakespeare or Robert Frost, I gave it my heart and soul.  "'War-weary am I with the world,

But in your company, I am again childlike with curiosity,

And alive as though electrocuted.

Die though I might, if death does come

In your presence,

I wish it could be slow and long,

So that I can gaze into your eyes

Till the darkness comes,

And the gold disappears from my memories.'"

Lisa's eyes flew wide open in surprise.  "I never knew you wrote poetry, Rick."

"In general, I don't.  But I used it as a way to more fully express myself.  Mere words, though, cannot truly express my truest emotions.

'The perfection of what happens during our shared times

Is best left for ballads and songs,

Yet the simplest truth remains

That I am yours till the day my breath stills,

And from the day when the eternal doors of life

Welcome you back to me.'"

"How, then, will you express them," she asked, half nervously and half teasingly.

We locked eyes.  I knew in my heart that there was no going back.  We'd crossed the final barrier between us, the fear of intimacy, and we were safely on the other side.  She drew in her breath sharply and awaited my next move.  I kissed her cheek, softly, tenderly, and with great passion.  I started working toward her neck, nibbling ever so slightly as I progressed.  I felt her heartbeat increase as I touched and caressed her body, and felt the passion rising with every second.  Then, without missing a beat, the candle went out, and our passions reached a fever pitch, not abating until much later that night.

AN: Well, it's a quiet spot, which is welcome, but it won't last long.  Stress relief never does, does it?  And our heroes are always on call 24/7, aren't they?  Let's see what awaits them in the next installment. J


	6. Pillow Talk

**_Chapter VI_**

The sunlight shone brightly through the window to my officer's billet.  One of those rare sunny days in the Pacific Northwest; not a cloud in the sky, and very warm.  I awoke to a scene I wish to have replayed every morning for the rest of my life; Lisa's hair stretched out over my face, tickling my ears, caught in the corners of my lips.  I'd thought like that before with other women, but nowhere in those lovers past, not Minmei, not Carla, not even Nikki, had I ever felt as complete before; never was there such security and serenity.  I'm not overly sentimental, and nowhere near sappy, as a rule, but it seemed like maybe, just maybe, in each other's arms, we could escape all of the pain and unfairness and misery that the world had to offer, and maybe allow a small part of our souls to become unburdened with the sorrows we dealt with every day.

I never let on to it, even amongst the guys in my squadrons, but my luck with women was almost as bad as Lisa's luck with men.  Every time I allowed myself to get close to a woman, to allow myself to feel something, it always ended up that I was a better friend than a lover, or that they thought of me as their older brother.  Always "Rick Hunter to the rescue".  Why they couldn't figure out a way to solve their own problems was beyond me, but if it helped them out, I guess it was worth it.  Problem was, I had to be strong for everyone, 24/7, like being a commanding officer.  I had no one to be weak around, no one to collapse with, and no one to go to pieces in front of.  I had to always suck it in and take it on the chin, when part of me wanted to just run and hide.  I looked at Lisa's slumbering form and knew that, in equal measure, we would be at each other's side, and could be strong for each other and could each be weak in the others' presence.  I knew that I could surrender all of my fears, all of my doubts, all of my insecurities to her and never be afraid or alone ever again.  I knew that, in her presence alone, as well as in her arms, I would be as safe as an infant in a cradle.

The pager near my bedside told me that Barton had relieved all of my squadrons from duty for the day, that it was a day of R&R for us.  I levered myself up onto my left elbow traced my right forefingers along the curve of her body.  I wanted to touch every last inch of her beautiful body.  The way her frame sloped, from her jaw, to her neck, to her shoulders, to her chest, to her hips and legs, was thoroughly enticing and intoxicating. I started at her shoulder and went down her arm, heading towards the small of her back and saw some scars there.  I wasn't shocked; I knew she had been through some really rough times and battles, but I had no idea where those scars came from.  I promised myself I'd ask about them later, but not make too much of an issue out of it.  

She was really quite beautiful, not in the shallow-pin-up-calendar-bikini-babe way, but a mature beauty, one that had seen it all and withstood everything nature, time and acts of Zentraedi could throw at it.  I looked at her again, as if through new eyes.  I finally had a reason to live, beyond strapping myself into a flying arsenal and hurling myself at the implacable foe.  I had one person, above all others, who gave a damn if I returned from patrol.  It was a fulfilling feeling, and it was almost like a second, more powerful set of shielding on my VT.  Her love would keep my hope alive, and I knew it could be the only light I would ever need in the dark days I knew were coming.

Lisa started to stir.  "Wha…?"

"Morning, sunshine," I whispered.

"Morning, yourself.  When _did_ we get to sleep, anyway?"

"I lost track after 0400," I smirked.

"And what time is it now?"

"1100 hours," I replied, half ashamed that we'd committed a breach of protocol like that, even though it was an off-duty day, and half satisfied that we had finally reached that plateau where such intimacy was second nature.

"Ye gods, Rick," she yawned.

"And you know what?"

"What's that?"

"There's no one I'd rather sleep through my shift with than you," I grinned.

"How romantic," she groaned, rolling her eyes.  "Though, I'd have to agree with you on that point.  It does seem like this is the last quiet time we'll have for a while."

"There's so many things I want to tell you, Lisa," I said, intensely.  "And we don't have a lot of time, and I don't know where to start."

"Well, what do you want to say most?"

"That if there was only one word I could speak for the rest of my life, it would be your name," I said, solemnly.  "But more substantial than that, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry, again, for all of the pain I've ever caused you, and for all of the tears I've made you cry.  I wish I could take them all and turn them into rain, though, Lord knows, this part of the world certainly doesn't need more of it…"

She held her fingertips to my lips.  "A very wise man once said, 'Love means never having to say you're sorry,'" she replied.  "You've more than made up for what's gone before, and shown me how truly wonderful you are.  And I don't think that any craft ever constructed, no matter it be by human or Zentraedi craftsmen, could ever fly higher than my heart now that you're in my life."

My heart leapt into my throat at her words, and I said, "Now that the Earth is leveled, you're the only family I have left."

I saw her eyes well slightly at the thought of her own family, her father, who died at Alaska Base, and her 'honor family' of the bridge crew, now held hostage by Maistroff and Howe.  "You're all I have left, Rick," she sobbed softly.

"I'll always protect you, and never fail you.   I promise."

I looked again into those warm, enchanting eyes of hers.  Their beauty alone made her the envy of many; they were enchanting to the point of being hypnotic.  I kissed away her tears and smiled at her.  "I kinda fudged it and rushed it the first time, Lisa, but I want to get it right this time.  I love you with all of my heart, all of my soul, and all of my life.  There is no one, absolutely no one, on this rock I'd rather join my heart and soul with for all eternity." I fumbled at the pathetic excuse for a CD player that the barracks had to offer.  "I guess this song kinda sums up our relationship."

_Didn't I say I wasn't ready for romance?_

_Didn't we promise we would only be friends?_

_And so we danced, tho it was only a slow dance,_

_I started breaking my promises right there and then._

_Didn't I swear there'd be no complications?_

_Didn't you want someone who'd seen it all before?_

_Now that you're here, it's not the same situation._

_Suddenly I don't remember the rules anymore._

_This night is mine…_

_It's meant for you and I._

_Tomorrow is such a long time away._

_This night we are together._

_I've been around; someone like me should know better._

_Falling in love would be the worst thing I could do._

_Didn't I say I needed time to forget her?_

_Aren't you running from someone who's not over you?_

_How many nights have I been lonely without you?_

_I've told myself how I really don't care._

_How many nights have I been thinking about you?_

_Wanting to hold you but knowing you would not be there…_

_This night is mine…_

_It's meant for you and I._

_Tomorrow is such a long time away._

_This night we are together._

"I love you, Lisa, with a passion I've never known before.  And this, above all else, I know with all my soul that you are the woman I love and would like to marry.  Will you marry me?"

"Oh, Rick," she replied, obviously overwhelmed.  Part of my piloting instinct is to overkill a target rather than underkill, and that extended to personal relationships as well as to piloting.  "Of course I will.  I meant it when I said it before this crazy conflict started, and I mean it twice as sincerely now."

"Lisa, you've made me the happiest man in the RDF."

"Would you care to show me how happy you are," she winked.

"I thought I did already," I winked back, pleased that such jousting was second nature by now.

"True, but we want to have stories to tell the grandkids, don't we?"

"Ah, yes…" I smirked, feigning an elderly tone of voice.  "Ya see, sonny, there was that one day, when yer granny and I were just engaged…" I let my voice trail off, as Lisa's face couldn't handle the humor any further.

"That was good," she conceded.

"That was my intention," I rejoined.

I leaned in, my lips burning for hers, and she offered them in return, so full of life, of passion, that they were a well that I could fall into and never fear drowning.  Could life get any better than this, I wondered.  Then, we fell into another round of enhanced passion, and all other thoughts flew out the window.

AN: Regarding a solely romantic fanfic, I don't have the creative energy.  I write romance when I have a happy spot in my heart, which, of late, I have, and combat when I'm royally pissed at something.  But don't worry, action lovers, there will be more chances to see "stuff blowing up". J  In addition, and I know it's kind of an oddball idea, but there are anime conventions and writing conventions and the like; why not, at some point, hold a convention/get together kind of thing for the people who write on this site?  It's not an urgent idea, but maybe it may work.  Of course, I'm figuring that most of us are of the age when we can do that kind of thing, but maybe I'm wrong.  Email and reviews are accepted, as always.  Till next time.


	7. Priorities

**_Chapter VII_**

I glanced briefly at the intel reports as we lounged about during the day, and it read that the rebels had no activity in this sector, and would not be there in the next day or so. In the meantime, we'd gotten word from Max and Miriya that there was an informal party on the base at 1800, in part to celebrate our company's arrival, and in part to raise morale.  Lisa and I found fresh uniforms from the Quatermaster, and showered and got ready for the "time".  The base had a large gymnasium, which had been converted for the party.  It was a little after 1830 when Lisa and I showed up.

The whole crowd shouted, "_Cheers!_"

A loud roar rose up, as we stared at the crepe paper and balloons.  "We knew you wouldn't come over if we told you it was for the both of you," Max was saying to me.

"You do realize," I smirked, "that you just volunteered to test leaky spacesuits for a month."

"Whatever you say, boss," he replied.  "It'll be worth it."

Miriya got up to the mic, obviously fulfilling the role of DJ, and said, "I think the proper phrase right now would be, 'Let's get this party started!'"

_I spent last night in the arms of a girl from Louisiana,_

_And though I'm out on the highway, my thoughts are still with her._

_Such a strange combination of a woman and a child,_

_Such a strange situation, stoppin' every hundred miles, _

_Callin' Baton Rouge._

I'd loved that song since I was a kid.  I looked at Lisa; we both were keeping step with each other, looking deeply into each others eyes.  The song could almost perfectly describe our courtship.

_A replay of last nights' events roll through my mind,_

_Except a scene or two, erased by sweet red wine._

_And I see a truckstop sign ahead, so I change lanes._

_I need a cup of coffee, and a couple dollars change,_

_Callin' Baton Rouge._

_Operator, won't you put me on through?_

_Gotta send my love down to Baton Rouge._

_Hurry up, won't you put her on the line?_

_Gotta talk to my girl just a-one more time._

_Hello, Samantha, dear, I hope you're feeling fine._

_And it won't be long until I'm with you all the time,_

_But until then, I'll spend my money, up right down to my last dime,_

_Ca-a-allin' Baton Rouge._

_Operator, won't you put me on through?_

_Gotta send my love down to Baton Rouge._

_Hurry up, won't you put her on the line?_

_Gotta talk to my girl just a-one more time._

I never knew how graceful Lisa was before, but as I saw her line dancing, I knew I'd never forget what I had seen of her that night.  I'd always admired women, growing up; I never quite ever hated them the way most little boys hated girls, I'd always liked them.  And I've always admired how fluid and graceful their movements were, how they flowed from one pose to another, instead of the awkward, boxy steps that us males had to get by with.  But never before had I truly appreciated the grace and agility that the fairer sex came by naturally, nor had I ever truly realized how completely and utterly Lisa had exemplified these traits.  And that night, Lisa outshone all of the other women on the floor.  

I guess anyone reading my notes of the past few days is thinking that I'm a little sappy when it comes to talking about Lisa, well, it's the truth.  I can't help myself; it's like being drunk on expensive Scotch, without the violent vomiting and headache that happens the next day.  

I only remembered a few songs they played that night, primarily because Miriya, in her zest to fit in with the Micronian culture, was absolutely schizophrenic in her musical tastes.  That seemed to fit the tastes of the younger soldiers, however, as they had no problem keeping pace as she switched from pop to rock to soul to jazz.  Lisa and I had a harder time keeping up, however, between our injuries and our utter fatigue from the previous night's activities.  She seemed to be bracing her back, probably from the wounds that those scars covered, whereas I was favoring my left leg heavily, courtesy of the conflict in which we were engaged.  I motioned to her, and we limped feebly over to the bar, where a few rounds of celebratory champagne had been poured out.

"Well, well, if it isn't the guests of honor," Max shouted.  "C'mon over, guys!"

"Thanks, Max," I said.  "This is certainly quite a party, how'd you throw it together on this short notice?"

"Well, I talked to Barton, and it was kind of a coincidence, because the base was going to throw a morale-booster tonight, anyway, so we decided to tweak it a little bit.  And when they heard that the best soap opera this side of Monument City had touched down in their own backyard-"

"Meaning Rick and I," Lisa groaned.

"You got it.  Well, the guys couldn't resist.  And, truthfully, neither could we.  You know us, always willing to engage death in a staredown, but also wanting to kick back every so often," Max finished up.

"Who gave Miriya the job of DeeJay," Lisa asked.  "She seems to be holding her own."

"Actually, she _volunteered_ for it," Max chuckled.  "She feels that, by immersing herself in the culture of our 'insane sonic patterns' as she puts it, she will become closer to her goal of being a full Micronian.  And, I have to admit, she'd played a few of my favorites tonight, without me asking her to."

"Yeah, I wondered why there were a lot of Beatles songs in the rotation," I joked.

We paused and listened to the lingering strains of "Rock Around the Clock" dying in the distance.  "By the way, Rick, Lisa," Max said, "The guys have a little gift for you two."

Lisa looked at him, half grinning and half wary.  "Why do I think that we should start running fast and far right about now?"

"You're both probably right," he replied, as a shower of ice water from an oversized cooler greeted both Lisa and me. 

"I take it this is your way of telling us to cool it off a bit," I snapped in jest.

"Well, actually, no.  But we went with this instead of the Zentraedi tradition of boiling lava on the backside for celebrating a combat kill," Max said.  The whole group looked at him.  "Don't ask, you do _not_ want to know."

I chuckled at the mental image of Zentraedi fighter jocks pouring molten lava over each other as they celebrated a piloting kill.  "You definitely got yourself an interesting situation, there, Max," I chuckled, pulling him aside, for a little mano-a-mano chat.

"True, but I wouldn't miss it for the world.  Definitely a cut above anything I could have ever predicted when I graduated from the Academy.  And she's worth her weight in Zentraedi gold, Rick.  I was lucky that she was in the right place at the right time for me, and she feels the same way.  And we're happy for you, Rick.  Just keep in mind that we need your heart in the cockpit as much as your brains."

"Thanks, Max," I said.

Then, we both looked over and saw a truly amazing, albeit comedic, sight: Miriya selected the Macarena, and she was leading the crowd in doing the dance, along with several gaffes and some facial expressions she had that I couldn't identify.  Max grabbed me by the back of the collar and said, "The guys and I have an idea, Rick, and we'll need your help. Wanna give it a go?"

I looked at him strangely.  "As long as it doesn't involve any explosions, I'm game."

He gave me a pair of dark sunglasses, and said, "C'mon backstage, we're gonna give this crowd a little audience participation.  There's a karaoke contest, and the XO's and I entered.  We need your vocals, Rick."

"What's this 'we' stuff, anyway? What song did you select?"

"You'll find out in a few, boss," he said.

"Are you drunk, Max?"

"Nah, just a little buzzed.  That's all I ever get.  Miriya doesn't like it when I'm drunk, and an enraged Quadrano pilot is definitely not a pleasant living companion."

As we meandered to the back of Miriya's podium, Max gave me the final instructions as to dance moves and rhythm.  Max stepped up and whispered in her ear as "Cotton-Eye Joe" was finishing up. Lisa, I could see from across the floor, was enjoying the dance rather thoroughly, and was adept at the spins and kicks it involved.  I smiled half nervously, and then Miriya announced, "Greetings, all! Tonight, we have a very special production for you; The Spacefold Singers have graciously agreed to sing for you all, to kick off the action in our karaoke contest."

As she spoke, we all put on our shades, buttoned up our BDU's to look more official, and got in step with each other.  Two steps, clap; another, clap; repeat, twist our shoulders and shuffle our feet as we clap to the beat.  Point the toes out dramatically every four beats.  I was lead vocals, and had Max and two XO's in the backup and rhythm section.

_Hot sun, beatin' down, _

_burning my feet, just walkin' around._

_Hot sun, makin' me sweat, _

_gator's getting' close, hasn't got me yet…_

_I can't dance, I can't talk, _

_Only thing about me is the way I walk;_

_I can't dance, I can't sing,_

_I'm just standin' here, selling everything._

_Billy Jean's sittin' on the beach, _

_her dog's talkin' to me, but she's outta reach;_

_She's got a body, under that shirt, _

_but all she wants to do is rub my face in the dirt._

_I can't dance, I can't talk, _

_Only thing about me is the way I walk;_

_I can't dance, I can't sing,_

_I'm just standin' here, selling…_

_And checkin everything is in place,_

_You never know who's a-lookin on…_

We scanned the audience dramatically, and in rhythm to the music.

_Young punk spillin' beer on my shoes, _(I pointed to the XO of Hawkeye Squadron, Billy Byrd)

_Fat guy's talkin' to me, trying to steal my blues. _(Pointed to XO for the Rogues, Richard Jannsen)

_Thick smoke, see the smilin' fool,_ (Pointed to Max, smiling broadly)

_I never thought so much could happen just shootin' pool._

_I can't dance, I can't talk, _

_Only thing about me is the way I walk;_

_I can't dance, I can't sing,_

_I'm just standin' here, selling…_

_And checkin everything is in place,_

_You never know who's a-lookin on…_

_The perfect body, with the perfect face.  _(I pointed at Lisa on this line, causing her to blush and the crowd to roar with approval)

_Um-hm._

_I can't dance, I can't talk, _

_Only thing about me is the way I walk;_

_I can't dance, I can't sing,_

_I'm just standin' here, selling everything._

_I can't walk…_

_No, I can't dance…_

_I can't dance…_

_I can't sing…_

Lisa and the girls in our squadrons were getting revved at our act, and apparently hatched a plot of their own.  She motioned me aside, and whispered their idea to me.  I couldn't fault them, and nodded in reply.  I'd always liked Lisa's singing, and this was a perfect showcase for it.  Max took his cue from Miriya, and assumed the DJ setup for the song. I attempted to leave the floor, but Lisa caught me by the arm, chuckling, "Oh, no, flyboy, you don't get out of it that easily."

I took a seat near the front of the stage, and then Lisa, Miriya, and a woman I didn't know, took the stage.

Ooooh…ahhhhh…I need, I need, I need, I got to hold on to your love… 

_Hey, baby, thought you were the one who tried to run away?_

_Ooh, baby, wasn't I the one who made you want to stay?_

_Please don't bet that you'll ever escape me, once I get my sights on you…_

When she go to that point in the song, and at every chorus, Lisa made a pistol with her thumb and forefingers of her right hand and slid them in a seductive fashion up her right thigh, as if drawing a real pistol.

_I got a license to kill, (to kill)_

_And you know I'm going straight for your heart…(Got a license to kill)_

She aimed it slowly at my heart and pretended to shoot me.__

_Got a license to kill, (to kill)_

_Anyone who tries to tear us apart…(with a license to kill)_

_Mhmmm…license to kill…_

_Hey baby, think you need a friend to stand up by your side? (Yes you did, your side…)_

_Oooh, baby, now you can depend on me to make things right…(things right)_

_Please don't bet that you'll ever escape me, once I get my sights on you…_

_I got a license to kill, (to kill)_

_And you know I'm going straight for your heart…(Got a license to kill)_

_Got a license to kill, (to kill)_

_Anyone who tries to tear us apart…(with a license to kill)_

_Got a license to kill, (to kill)_

_And you know I'm going straight for your heart…(Got a license to kill)_

_Got a license to kill, (to kill)_

_Anyone who tries to tear us apart…(with a license to kill)_

_Say that somebody tries to make a move on you;_

_In the blink of an eye, I'll be there too._

_And you better know why; I'm gonna make them pay…_

_Till their dying day, till their dying day, till their dying day…_

_Got a license to kill, (to kill)_

_And you know I'm going straight for your heart…(Got a license to kill)_

_Got a license to kill, (to kill)_

_Anyone who tries to tear us apart…(with a license to kill)_

_I got a license to kill, (to kill)_

_And you know I'm going straight for your heart…(Got a license to kill)_

_Got a license to kill, (to kill)_

_Anyone who tries to tear us apart…(with a license to kill)_

_Ooooh, license to kill…_

_Gotta hold on to your loving…_

_License to kill…_

_Kill…(fade out)_

The crowd went wild, and I was left breathless.  That was, simply, the most stunning and seductive live performance I'd ever seen anyone put on.  I decided my next move, dully reminding myself that this was a crowd competition, not an officer's party.  The crowd, however, was definitely interested in watching us out-duel each other in songs, and there were no complaints as I took the stage yet again, with Max, Billy, and Richard as backup.  This one song I had in mind described how secure I felt with her love in my life, and the guys were there to help me whip the crowd into frenzy.

We got into a rocking, stomping rhythm, clapping and stomping to the beats of the music.  The crowd joined in, as well, when it picked up what song we were doing.

_One, two, a one two three four…_

_ Some love is just a lie of the heart,_

_The cold remains of what began with a passionate start,_

_And they may not want it to end,_

_But it will, it's just a question of when._

_I've lived long enough to have learned:_

_The closer you get to the fire, the more you get burned…_

_But that won't happen to us,_

_Cuz it's always been a matter of trust._

_Now I know you're an emotional girl;_

_It took a lot for you to not lose your faith in this world._

_And I can't offer you proof,_

_But you're gonna face a moment of truth._

_It's hard when you're always afraid;_

_You just recover when another belief is betrayed._

_So break my heart if you must,_

_It's a matter of trust…_

_You can't go the distance,_

_With too much resistance._

_I know you have doubts,_

_But for God's sake don't shut me out._

_This time, you've got nothing to lose,_

_You can take it, you can leave it; whatever you choose,_

_I won't hold back anything,_

_And I'll walk away a fool or a king._

_Some love is just a lie of the mind,_

_It's make-believe until it's only a matter of time._

_And some might have learned to adjust,_

_But then it never was a matter of trust._

We moved out into the audience and busted our own, individual moves, and the crowd went wild.  Lisa came up with me for a few seconds and we did a little grind during the bridge to the song.

_I'm sure you're aware, love,_

_We've both had our share of_

_Believing too long,_

_When the whole situation was wrong._

_Some love is just a lie of the soul,_

_A constant battle for the ultimate state of control._

_After you've heard lie upon lie,_

_There can hardly be a question of why._

_Some love is just a lie of the heart,_

_The cold remains of what began with a passionate start._

_But that can't happen to us,_

_Cuz it's always been a matter of trust._

_It's a matter of trust…_

_It's always been a matter of trust…_

Again, the crowd went wild as we finished singing.  Lisa looked at me as if a gauntlet had been thrown down, and she was planning her next move, when the Klaxons went off, as well as an order on the intercom.  "Attention all personnel, the enemy is attacking.  All pilots, report to your squadrons, and prepare for immediate takeoff.  All infantry, to your post.  Three columns of tanks and infantry vehicles heading our way, plus a full wing of assault aircraft.  All personnel, scramble!"

I ran hell-for-leather to the hanger, with Lisa, Max, and the Skull pilots following me.  When we got there, we saw most of the squadron's fighters were on hydraulic lifts, undergoing refit.  "You've gotta be kidding me," I groaned.

"No joke, Captain," the lead tech said.  "We've been overhauling these fighters all day, and we've only got yours and Captain Hayes' finished."

"Great," I groaned, as Lisa and I put on our harnesses and parachutes.

"We do, however, have some conventional, Harrier-class fighters available.  I know they're no replacement for your mechs, but it's either that or take the Destroids or a hovertank," he finished lamely.  

Max and four of my squad volunteered for the Harriers, while the rest opted for hovertanks to take on the ground forces.  The tanks were called Savannah Masters, and were lightly armored, though mounting 3 medium lasers, and were extremely fast.  The hovertanks moved off to the front as the air defenses sprung into action.  Lisa and I taxied onto the runway, and were given clearance to lift off.  We flew high, switched into Guardian mode, and fired a burst at the woods along the edge of the clearing that surrounded the base.  She took out a few heavy tanks with her burst, and I attracted the attention of a few surface to air missiles, which my ECM swiftly disposed of.  The first thing I noticed was that we had a shared targeting computer link.  "Lisa, are you getting my data?"

"Yes, Rick, I can see."

Then, a flight of enemy VT's swept on us like a wild wave.  I don't think Lisa or I had ever engaged in such flying before in our lives, even on The Line, and the dogfights that went on were intense and painful, because we knew everyone that we were putting a bullet into.  Max and the other escorts put a barrage of missiles into the woods, just as the enemy charge began.  A few prototype mechs took the leading edge of their charge, sporting two medium lasers and two streak SRM packs.  A streak missile is easier to target than a normal missile, and all missiles in those packs automatically hit once the target is acquired. Lisa and I focused on these first, as the VT fight was all but over, since the other Skulls made short work of the remaining combatants.

My four medium pulse lasers locked onto the leading mech…

AN: Another cliffhanger. J  I hope you enjoyed the comic relief, but remember, this _is_ the military, and they do have a government to restore and evil to conquer, and all without messing up their hairdos and uniforms, right?  Read and review, please!


	8. Cain and Abel

Chapter VIII 

I aimed at the lead prototype with my pulse lasers, heard the beep of the targeting computer go from rapid to steady, and fired.  All four beams converged on the mech, center torso, and hit it's gyro, making it stagger.  I switched to Gerwalk mode to try with my autocannon, and noticed that it had been upgraded.  It now was a rotary autocannon; six barrels that could fire five rounds from each barrel every time I pulled the trigger.  I aimed at the wounded mech and fired. All of the rounds hit the pilot in the left leg, shearing it off.  I tossed the fallen pilot a salute and kicked in the afterburners. 

"Captain Hunter, this is Colonel Barton, come in, please."

"Go ahead, Colonel."

"If your pilots want to fly some VT's for you, I'll send my own pilots up in conventional aircraft; you land your guys and we'll swap out."

"Max, you hear that?"

"Sounds like a plan, skipper.  My skills in standard fighters aren't up to snuff for this battle."

"Skull group, those who can disengage, return to the hangar and let Barton's guys show us what they can do with those antiques," I ordered.

"Antiques, sonny?  They'll get the job done," cried an unknown voice.

"Sorry, buddy," I replied.  "Just not my speed."

The next mech was a standard Dervish Destroid, armed with both short and long range missiles and medium lasers.  It decided to poke its head my way, and I didn't like the way it was looking at me.  I donated it some LRM fire, and it objected to my generosity.  He fired his lasers in response.  He cooked off some paint on my right torso.  "Hey, buddy, I'll send you the repair bill for that."

"Put it on my tab," he replied.

I responded with my lasers.  Most of the fire concentrated around his mech's legs, and I saw him fall down as a result of his piloting failure.  "You've just been vaped by Rick Hunter, have a nice day."

Lisa was firing up a storm, targeting her nearest mech, another of those nasty prototypes.  Her first blast of autocannon fire punched through the opposing mech like it was coated with Saran wrap.  She leapt clear, gained altitude, and fired again.  This time, the pilot was nailed in the leg.  A rapid stream of laser fire came in, destroying her target.  "Who the hell was that," she asked.

"Glad to help you, Ma'am," came the voice of Skull Three.

"I needed it," she replied.  "I'll buy you a drink when we land."

"Hope it's apple juice," I joked.  "He's still a kid."

"Whatever he wants, other than alcohol, then," Lisa groaned.

Next came an assault tank, which desired to share with me the joys of LRM fire.  My legs absorbed the damage, and I fired back, with Max adding his lasers to the fun.  Our beams crossed, and the tank took a massive amount of damage, while still having energy to reply.  His LRM launcher targeted me again, and the SRM launcher targeted Max.  I got whacked with another hit to the left leg.  The engine exploded on the tank when Max and I returned fire.

I refocused on the next wave of VT intruders.  Three man squadron, arrowhead formation.  Lisa and I had the right altitude; if we timed it just right, we could probably damage, if not kill, two on a strafing run.  I aimed ahead of the lead plane, firing my lasers again.  Lasers can be your friends; they're cheaper than ammunition and far more accurate.  They could also be your enemy for the same reason.  As long as I'm on the right end of the barrel, I like them.  Three of my lasers missed, and the one that hit nailed the pilot in the engine block armor, causing a minimal amount of damage.  

I looked over at Lisa fast, and she was handling her VT like a pro; her laser fire was good enough for three out of four hits.  Her intended target went sailing down towards the ground, without a prayer of a chance for whoever flew it.

The remaining two switched to Battloid mode and started laying down some serious cover fire.  Lisa and I followed suit, but I grinned; our autocannons were superior to theirs.  Still, a lucky hit could make you have a really bad day.  The pilot closest to me flew a plane all decked out in crimson with black trim, and he chose to take me on single-handed.  "An honor, Captain Hunter," I heard him sneer.

"You again, Flynn," I sighed.  "Don't you ever give up?"

"Against traitors and over-hyped heroes, never."

I used an extra half-second to target his craft.  Then, my autocannon tore into him like a Zentraedi plasma cannon.  His left side and center torso were given thorough air conditioning.  He aimed his autocannon 10 at me, and let fly.  I could tell he lacked a targeting computer.  My cockpit received a glancing blow, and yet, all of his harm had been minimal.  "Is that all, Flynn," I taunted.  "Your skills disappoint me."

"And yours are as awful as ever, Hunter," he rejoined.  Without warning, he switched to fighter mode and headed off towards the edge of the battle, pursuing an escaping VT. 

"Lisa, is that you?"

"Yes, Rick." She coughed; smoke was in her cockpit.  "My stabilizers have been hit; I'm trying to get away."

"You're drawing fire; I'll be right there."

I glanced at the ground radar, and it looked like Howe's infantry and vehicles were making a perimeter around the base, and if Lisa were to get stranded, she'd be down behind enemy lines.

I boosted the afterburners and gained air.  Flynn had some decent skills as a pilot, but his main failure was in chronically neglecting to use all three dimensions of flight: over, under, and head-to-head.  I pulled up right behind him and fired my lasers again.  I could see the gaps in his upper armor, and saw the sizzling electric coursing through the wires.  His engine and gyro had been hit, badly.  I called out, "Bob, this is madness.  You may hate me, and I may not be fond of you, but surrender, or you're going to die!"

"You don't get it, do you, Hunter?  There is no honor in surrendering to a traitorous foe." So saying, he unleashed a salvo of missiles at Lisa's VT.

_"NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"_

Her engines took damage, and her wings faltered as she turned.

"Lisa, eject!"

"I can't, the canopy won't budge."

I tried to fly under her to cushion her fall, but Flynn, now in Battloid mode, got in my path.  "You sonovabitch, get out of my way," I snarled.

"As always, choosing emotion over duty," he sneered.  "You don't deserve her, Hunter.  She's your weak spot, one that I will use to destroy you once and for all!"

I didn't care at that point if I killed him.  Max told me later that I did.  I couldn't remember, because the salvo that supposedly destroyed him also had a few errant missiles.  

"Rick, your missiles have locked on to me!"

I tried to target them individually, but the laser fire missed all of the missiles.  As I stood in the air, hovering over my greatest and closest kill of the war, I watched through swelling tears as my missiles tore through Lisa's VT.  The impact shook her plane, and the pilot's compartment fired forward into the Pacific Ocean.

I flew down for a closer look and radioed in, "Seattle Base, request medevac on the coastline; Captain Hayes is down."

AN: I'm getting my groove back, and that's a plus.  Hope you are all enjoying this.  Any suggestions are welcomed, and be prepared, the war hasn't even kicked into high gear yet. Anyone who read the old GI Joe comics will truly appreciate the next chapter or two.


	9. Reconstructed Psyche

Chapter IX 

I couldn't do anything.  There I stood, in a 40-foot tall suit of transforming armor, and stared at the one I loved heading into the ocean.  And I was the one responsible.

"Rick, are you okay?"

I heard vain attempts at communication squawk through the headset, but none of them made any sense.  The chopper marked with a red cross made its way into the combat zone, and I stood there, watching.  The battle wasn't over, the infantry was making their assault on Seattle Base, and I couldn't move.  Tears welled inside my eyes; I was the one who should have been shot down, not her!

I wanted to pull the lever and turn my VT into a fighter, to fly down to the ocean, to make the pain go away.  But killing myself wouldn't remove Lisa's hurt; it would only make it worse.  Suddenly, I snapped out of my reverie.  I had to protect that chopper.

_Please get me through, I don't care how;_

Don't take my love away, not now! [1] 

I targeted an LRM volley that was heading towards the MASH chopper.  All of the LRM's dissolved under the laserfire.  I saw that the tank columns were advancing slowly over the hill, and that the LRM fire was coming nearer.  "Max, Miriya, concentrate your fire on the center of the enemy column.  Disperse their formations, and the ground forces can pick them off slowly."

"Roger that, boss," came Max's response.

"What about Lisa," Miriya asked.

"You worry about those tanks, I'll worry about the chopper," I snapped.

It was too late for the choppers, however; a submersible vehicle surfaced in the bay, with its cargo module open.  I switched to Battloid mode and stood on the cliff overlooking the bay.  I picked up my autocannon rifle and aimed at the sub with the sniper mode, but Lisa's pod was too close; the explosion would kill her, if she wasn't…_no, can't think that!_

Oh, where, oh, where can my baby be? 

_The Lord took her away from me…_

_She's gone to heaven, so I've got to be good,_

_So I can see my baby when I leave this world…[2]_

The crosshairs settled on the conning tower, and the rebel captain stood on the deck, commanding the retrieval.  A mech-sized autocannon round to a human head is not a pretty picture to imagine, but I entertained the thought, as I desperately wanted Lisa back.  The targeting light came on, indicating that I had a perfect shot…

Please get free… 

_I'm still with you; wait for me! [1]_

The private comm channel clicked.  "Rick, are you there?"

Max's voice jolted me out of my misery.  "I'm here, Wraith Leader."

"C'mon back to the barn; the rebels are cutting the base off and trying to besiege us."

"In a few seconds, Max, I've got some unfinished business."

I held my aim at the sub captain, then, as he disappeared, at the cargo hoist that was making to take Lisa aboard, then at the sub itself.  A direct hit to the forward hold, and she'd founder.  I put my finger on the trigger, ever so slightly…

The same channel again.  "Rick, come in."

I growled.  "Yes, Miriya?"

"What in the blazes are you doing up there?"

"Attempting to neutralize the enemy, as all Academy graduates are taught."

"You're also angling to get yourself killed, Rick.  Break off and return to base."

"Negative, Miriya."

"Boss, she's right.  You'd better get back, you can get Lisa another time."

I ignored Max, and the next thing I knew, Max and Miriya landed behind me.  I looked at them, confused, as they approached me. They each grabbed one of my arms and, picking me up, hit their thrusters, taking me far away from the combat zone, and back within the confines of the base.  I looked at Max like he was the boogeyman, and he was somewhere between irate and perplexed.  He turned to the face-to-face channel, unrecorded by combat flight ops.

"Why, boss?"

"It was an accident-"

"I didn't mean that," he snapped.  "Why were you willing to throw your life away just now?"

"Lisa's gone, and I am the one responsible.  I was willing to do anything to bring her back, and to ease the pain I feel."

_Let me go, John, I can't leave her;_

_Why in the world should I be saved instead of her? [1]_

"Well, it's not over yet," he said gently.  "We can still save her.  But you can't do it by getting yourself killed."

_It's not you, it's war that's cruel,_

_And if some dreams get smashed, perhaps its best they were. [1]_

I switched to Gerwalk, and allowed the ground crew to pull me out of the plane.  My legs were rubber as I crossed over the tarmac, and I felt Max and Miriya lending me support as I walked.  "By the way, boss, Barton doesn't know what happened up there; your secret is safe with us."

I nodded distractedly, and we stumbled to the war room.  "Captain, it's good to see you," Barton began.  "I'm sorry we lost Captain Hayes, she is a good pilot, and it's a tough one."

"Thank you, colonel," I said, numbly.  The rest of the time we were in the room, which, mercifully, wasn't long at all, Max did all the talking.  Then, he led me back to an abandoned lounge, posting the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door.  He left, and I was alone for a few hours, not ever quite asleep but never fully awake.  After a few hours, he returned.

"Where's Miriya?"

"She had to discuss something with the colonel.  Now, tell me straight, boss, were you really going to kill yourself over this?"

"I wanted to end the pain, and I wanted to get her back, Max.  It's like an energy thing, it's not purely emotional anymore.  I just wish that I could have taken her place, have it be my plane that got hammered, not hers."

"You made a mistake, boss.  She's alive, she'll make it.  But we need to get her out of Howe's clutches, that's for sure."

"You get her; I doubt that she'd be too happy to see me after I damn near killed her."

Miriya entered the room at this point and sat down in the chair directly opposite me.  "Rick, you need to calm down, and you need to come back to reality.  We need you here."

"You don't need someone who butchers his own men, especially one who butchers his loved ones."

She grabbed me by the shoulders and said, "Rick, I'm going to help you calm down, and I'm going to get you to relax and get your confidence back.  Look into my eyes."

Unwillingly, I looked, intending to satisfy her command for a second, and was drawn in, like a magnet to a ships' hull.  "A pilot knows three truths about his trade; one, that he is not impervious to the enemy; two, death is his companion, but it does not alarm him, because he must conquer death in the performance of his trade; and three, his safety and well-being is secondary to those he must protect and defend.  

"He could have to lay down his life at a moment's notice, and there's nothing he can say that could change it.  Conversely, he should never throw his life away recklessly.  But the defense of the innocent and the safety of others is your first priority.  You must rescue Lisa.  Barton gave his permission; you can leave to get her anytime you want.  Now go get her."

As Miriya spoke, I could feel my anxiety slip away, dropping to my toes and beyond, a discarded cloak.  I gained, if not a renewed confidence, then a determination to get Lisa free.  It was as if a trance had gripped me, and I welcomed it, for it gave me focus and took away my fear.  I said, "Thank you, Miriya, I needed that."

"In Zentraedi, it is called _shakragewehr. _ It means renewed determination."

"Thank you."

I stood up and walked a little easier, heading toward the war room again. Max followed behind me.  _Isn't this becoming a routine of mine,_ I thought half-amusedly. Barton took me aside as I entered the room, half whispering.

"Captain Hunter, it's good to see you back on your feet again," he said.  "I'm sorry if I seemed callous earlier, but I am aware of your emotional attachment to Captain Hayes and I fully intend to assist you in freeing her from Maistroff's clutches."

"Thank you, Colonel.  What's the plan?"

"Well, we'll send out a high altitude drop plane to get you two to within ten miles of the coast, and send you in on a HAHO, or High Altitude High Opening, drop.  The HAHO will allow you to use the parachute to coast the remaining distance to Macross City.  After that, it's up to you how you get in and get out.  Secondary mission objectives may include rescuing the SDF-1 bridge crew, and securing Maistroff's plague."

"Do I require any special equipment for this?"

"Dr. Chang, our R&D specialist, sent along a box of specialized ammunition for your MOG.  Red tipped projectiles explode upon impact; blue tipped ones are for fast-acting poison.  There are also compressed air canisters that fire weighted nets, to incapacitate a large group of soldiers.  We'll also give you the usual assortment of flash-bangs and flechette grenades.  But this is your new toy; an ARES FMG submachine gun."

He handed us each a small box, about the size of a CD player faceplate box.  "Is this some sort of joke?"

"Not at all.  You unfold this box into a 50.3 cm long submachine gun, with a barrel length of 18.7 cm.  It can fire single shot, three, five, or eight shot bursts, or fully automatic.  And it holds 32 rounds of 9mm ammunition, so you should have no problems coming up with covering fire should you need it."

A large explosion rocked the base.  "Colonel Barton, Howe's men have hit the fuel dump and the external comm lines.  They're making for a massive assault."

"Looks like our plan will have to be put on hold, captain," he said.  Then, he raised his voice, "Load all disabled mechs and spare parts on the first cargo carriers.  Then we evacuate the wounded.  All units who are still able stand your ground and cover the evacuation. We will never surrender."

AN: Thank you all for your kind words and your encouragement.  This project is looking like it will become a trilogy, after all.  There's just too much to cover, too many ideas to share, and not enough space.  By the way, the first song quoted was "Fall of Saigon" from the musical "Miss Saigon" and the second was J. Frank Wilson's version, (the original, I believe) of the song "Last Kiss".  Maybe one of the wiser and saner heads on this site will have the time and inkling to take note of all the songs we've referenced and compile a "Rick and Lisa Songbook".  Me, I prefer the oldies, and a lot of older rock, along with some newer stuff.  But, as always, review and recommend. I love input, and I love writing for an audience.  I'm sure you all feel the same way.  Which reminds me, some of you have not posted in quite a while.  (You all know who you are) It would be pleasing to see some other posts, and I'll review them as soon as they are available.


	10. Hell Incarnate

**_Chapter X_**

Explosions from the missiles and flares sent up by both sides, Howe's and ours, reddened the storm-blackened, lightning-choked skies of the Pacific Northwest.  Six hours after Barton gave the evacuation order, three quarters of the base had been evacuated.  This had been accomplished faster that we'd thought, due to Barton's Third and Fifth Corps being detached to New Portland.  This brought us down to only 6,000 infantry to evacuate, of which there were only 100 remaining to lift out.  

In addition, all of his mecha had been demolished, so the few scraps we could salvage were easier to handle than whole mechs.  Miriya and Max had taken a Destroid unit out in front of the base to establish a firing position, drawing fire away from the transports.  I, however, was up in the skies with the remnants of three VT squadrons trying to fight back the onslaught of the air assault and defend the escaping infantry.

Heavy bombers were called in for air strikes, and we in the air had to dance around 3,000 lb bombs in between Nature's artillery.  Every corner of the base was reduced to rubble, and the heavy weaponry emplacements were demolished.  The power generator had been annihilated in the second whirlwind of artillery fire.  But all of that was secondary to me, because I had three bogeys on my tail.

"Skull leader, you've got rude guests knockin'," Jannsen radioed in.

"Thanks, dude.  Let's show them some hospitality." I switched to Gerwalk mode and let the chin turret loose on my pursuit pals.  Two lasers converged on the lead enemy, and hit the pilot squarely amidships, nailing his engine and sending him into an uncontrollable spin towards the ground.  "Splash one," I grinned, then aimed at the other two, who overshot me as they were dodging my fire.

I allowed the extra half-second to use the targeting computer, and then fired a wide-angle burst.  Each plane took a hit to their aft section, blowing out one thruster each.  My charge card at the Bank of Luck wasn't overdue yet, as I turned around and performed a strafing run at the incoming ground forces.  _Crockett at the Alamo,_ I thought.

My missiles hit a full regiment as they charged across the open ground, and a huge fireball took the place of the charging enemy.  It was nowhere what we needed to win, but short of nuke weapons, it would have to do.  "Colonel Barton, we've got most of the skies cleared, how is the evacuation going?"

"Two last choppers, Rick, then we head outta here."

"Good.  Keep them hopping, guys.  Max, Miriya, pull back.  We're almost done."

"Roger that, Rick, but we've taken heavy casualties, and Miriya's section is out of touch and separated from me."

"Break a hole in their line and get her and her people to safety.  We need to pull back."

Meanwhile, Jannsen, Byrd and I led the six other fighters in loops and barrel rolls to avoid the incoming fire.  _Rookies,_ I thought.  _Looks like they fell asleep when they took "Dogfighting for Dummies"._

The three pilots that happened to fall behind their squadrons were fair game for the XO's and myself.  We opened up with a full barrage of laser fire.  Six lasers lit up their backsides, and we pressed our advantage with a missile volley.  The rookies never stood a chance against us.  They all went down in flames, engines and weapons exploding as they fell.

Another flight came in, and headed straight for the command center.  "Colonel Barton, get out of there, now! There's a squad of dive bombers heading your way, loaded for bear!"

"Copy, Skull leader."

I switched to Battloid mode and opened up with my rifle.  The left rear bomber took a critical hit from my first barrage, setting off the fusion engine.  As explosions gutted the bomber, he continued his descent towards the command bunker.  "Barton, scramble, NOW!"

"We can't make it in time, Rick, it's gonna…"

His voice ended in a sickening and all-consuming fireball.  I called on the radio, "All units, this is Captain Hunter.  Colonel Barton is dead, so I am assuming full responsibility for this situation.  All hands, prepare for evacuation. Break off engagement and make an orderly withdrawal towards the transports."

Max and Miriya's Destroids boarded the last cargo plane on the runway.  Max got out and ran towards his VT, and took off to fly cover on the convoy.  "Janssen, Byrd, escort these birds to New Portland.  Max and I have some business to take care of."

"No problem, boss.  We'll meet you back at the barn when you're finished."

I scanned the airwaves, looking for the radio frequency for the UN Combined Fleet.  "ESS Enterprise, this is Captain Rick Hunter of the SDF-1.  If you can read me, please respond."

It took a few minutes of trying, but then I heard them reply.  "Skull Leader, we are receiving, please proceed."

"Rusty, is that you," I groaned.

"Yes, it is, Rick.  What can I do ya for?"

"You'll have two VT's inbound on your lead carrier in about a half hour.  Don't shoot, it's me and a fellow pilot. We need to land and refuel."

"What happened to Seattle?"

"A little matter of an infantry assault.  I'll explain when I land."

"We'll look out for you, Skull Leader. Enterprise out."

******

AN: Angst, angst, angst.  Don't you just love it? J  I always write to music, and the songs I used for this chapter were: 'Hard to Starboard' from Titanic, The Battle of Hoth and the Battle of Endor from the Star Wars trilogy, and The Fall of Saigon, from, of course, Miss Saigon.  I tried to capture the anguish of a combat evacuation, and I don't know if I succeeded.  Read and review, as always.


	11. HAHO, HAHO, it's off to fight we go

**_Chapter XI  
  
_**

The wide, black flattop was a welcome sight to see, especially after nervously watching the fuel gauge wavering between green and red for a few miles.  "Skull Two, is it me, or are we being welcomed aboard with opened arms?"

"If this is a mirage, don't pinch me," he replied coolly.

Our fighters pulled to a stop and we dismounted.  A pasty-faced ensign, with the name "Carver" on his name patch, approached.  "Captain Hunter, Captain Sterling, I welcome you aboard the ESS Enterprise, with Vice Admiral Russell T. Gates' compliments.  Please accompany me to the wardroom."

We returned the young man's salute.  "We'll follow where you lead us, Ensign Carver.  Kindly make it a short trip, however, our nerves are rather shot," I said, a tad formally.

"And that's different from our fighters, how," Max quipped.

"That's right, I forgot that our planes found religion," I rejoined.

"In what way?"

"They're holey."

Max swatted the back of my head as we ducked down the stairway.  "This way, sirs," Carver said, mildly amused.

Max and I hung our helmets on the hat rack in the corner of Rusty's office.  "Nice scrape you found yourself in, Rick," he smiled as we sat down.

"No worse than the one you and Roy had in San Diego," I grinned.

"True," he smirked.  "Now, what is this business about wanting to go back?"

Max and I lay gave our report, and, a few hours later, Rusty nodded and scowled.  "You guys have a lot of guts going back to Macross City, you know."

"The implacable foe is the only one worth fighting," Max remarked.

"You guys do seem to have coral for brains," Rusty grimaced, shaking his head in disbelief.  "Okay, one more time.  What is the plan?"

"Well," I said.  "We do a HAHO jump from the coastline in towards Macross City, land, and proceed."

"How will you enter the city?"

"We'll bring along some demolitions, Rusty."

"As plans go, I've heard better," Rusty said.

"And I've heard worse," I countered.  "What about the one that began, 'Follow me, we'll get there in no time.'"

"That was one minor mistake, Rick.  Are you going to hold that over my head the rest of your life?"

"Relax, Rusty, it's forgiven."

Max looked at me strangely.  "What, is everyone in the defense force a friend of Roy's, or does it just seem that I've fallen into a tight circle of friends?"

"Yes," I said.  

"Okay, Mister-Fortune-Cookie," Max quipped.  "How do we get into the SDF-1?"

"The new RDF Marine Corps uniform includes a helmet with mask, right," I grinned.

"You've gotta be kidding me, Rick," Rusty said.  "The old, 'we'll sneak into the laundry room and steal a uniform or two' trick?"

"If you have a better idea, tell me now."

"Well, you're right about one thing," Max said.

"What's that?"

"There is no better plan."

"That's right.  That's why I developed this one."

"My god," Rusty said.  "Rick Hunter developing a plan.  This is a first."

"Whaddaya mean by that?"

"I recall your days in the Boy Scouts, mister.  Who got his patrol lost with that 'Swedish Compass' fiasco?"

"You've gotta be kidding me.  You planned that?"

"Took ya how many years to figure that out?"

I conceded the point and changed the subject.  "Thanks for the base of attack, Rusty.  Max and I should leave soon, though."

"What's the hurry?"

"Well, the faster we go, the sooner this war ends, right?"

"True, but you two are exhausted.  At least stay for some chow.  Finest mess hall afloat."

"We appreciate the offer, sir," Max said, "But Rick is right.  We gotta get there fast."

"Well, don't say I didn't offer," Rusty said.

***

Six hours later, as the cargo plane flies, Max and I found ourselves back in Macross City, dressed in matching black commando uniforms.  It was approximately five minutes till dawn, and we were on opposite ends of Broadway, the city's main street.  We'd rigged a small surprise to cover our entrance, and, not three yards from where I stood, I had summarily bound and gagged two RDF Marines, to ensure speed and surprise..  Their patrol bike was idling, and I was counting down till 0500, when the changing of the guard would occur.  My radio crackled.  "Lead, what's the game?"

"Two, you got wheels," I said.

"Yeah, so we deliver the goods and peel out, right?"

"Yes, on my count.  Three, two, one.  Make for the _Prometheus_!"

We triggered the explosives that we'd planted around the gates to the city and the guard shacks.  The fireballs that took down the guard posts drew everyone's attention, and, in the confusion, the sight of two uniformed marines riding back to HQ drew no attention.  "Lead to Two.  Full throttle, we're going in."

"Two, I copy," he replied.  Upon seeing two motorcycles heading back to base, the communications officer queried our actions, and when we didn't answer, the SDF-1's anti-personnel batteries, consisting of twin ma-deuce machine guns and a 40mm grenade launcher in a turret-pod, opened fire at us..  The gunners were used to targeting Destroids, so they were a little slower against a faster-moving opponent.  Tracer rounds surrounded me, and I banked to port as the first grenade came hurtling my way.  I saw the flight deck rapidly approaching, as the crossfire got worse.  "Max, what's your 20?"

"I'm taking heavy fire, but Howe's gunners can't hit a bull in the ass with a bass fiddle.  It makes for some interesting views, though."

"We gotta get through to the prison, dude.  Ditch the bike, this has gotta be a full frontal assault."

I slid my bike over on its right side and skidded along, letting it part in a shower of sparks.  I twisted around as I tumbled, trying to reach a flash-bang, but my balance was awful and I slid into a concrete barrier.  The resulting thud sickened me, and nausea permeated my head. I couldn't think straight, and my left leg was killing me.  I finally found a flash-bang and hurled it at the nearest weapons station. 

The guards screamed in pain as the light seared their eyeballs, and the concussion threw them into the lake.  I drew my FMG and unfolded it to its full length.  I slapped a painkiller patch on my left thigh and struggled to my feet, looking frantically for Max.  I caught a glimpse of his blue hair getting carried away with the crowd, a veritable tide of humanity, of enemy soldiers retreating with a captive.  My buddy had taken out his own turret, but he had the misfortune of being surrounded as he launched his grenade.  By now, the civilian defense corps personnel had awoken to the realization that they were being invaded, and were responding to the threat.  I saw that the hatch to the ship was open and unguarded, as everyone was running all over the place, so I took off at full speed towards it.  Halfway up the docking platform, a squad of heavy weapon troopers spotted me, and I heard the crack of 30mm rounds hurling my way…

AN: Sorry it took me a long time, guys, but the inspiration has been a little slow on my end lately.  That being said, I finally read Carla's "Bittersweet Destiny," and I absolutely adore it.  Can't wait for the next installment.  Now, Speresian, when are we gonna see yours?  And I'm sorry if this is a little weak, but I need a filler chapter every so often, don't I?  Don't worry, the truth, and the reunion, is coming sooner than you think.


	12. Know your enemy, know yourself

**_Chapter XII_**

One principle of warfare is if you're short on everything except the enemy, you're in combat. I had no option at that point, other than to take evasive action.  Ducking for cover behind an armored panel of the gangplank, I scanned the tactical situation.  It wasn't good.  The door behind me was wide open, and so was the gastight compartment beyond it.  Another squad or two could easily come charging through the corridor and cut me down so there wouldn't be a thimbleful of me left.  I had no chance slugging it out with the troops on the docks, so I donated a flechette grenade and ducked inside, slamming the door shut as the rain of metal impaled many bodies.  

The corridor I found myself in was the one leading toward Main Engineering.  I did a security sweep via the internal radar in my wrist monitor, and found that there were four squads converging on my position.  _The twenty guys on their way are not coming for tea and crumpets_, I guessed.  I figured that I had about five minutes, so I made for the Chief Engineer's office, which was right outside the main reactor and down the hall from the Omni-Directional Barrier chamber, where the main defensive barrier was generated in our battle with Dolza.    There would be a computer terminal there, which could enable me to locate Lisa, the other prisoners, and the plague.  

The room had always been cavernous, and the stealth my mission required magnified every nerve in my body to abnormal heights.  I never knew how many engineers ever worked down there, so I was always a little afraid that one would jump out from behind a pylon and shock me.  As a kid, I'd always been slightly afraid of large, darkened areas, so it seemed natural that it would carry over into my adulthood.  Now, I really had to clamp down on my fears, because the slightest light would give me away.  

The office was separated from the rest of the room by a metal ladder, the kind usually found on a child's playground, complete with emergency fire pole.  It was kind of strange, all the modern technology on the base, and yet, we still used some of the same equipment we used before the SDF-1 revealed itself to us. 

The shadows played to my advantage, especially when I heard booted feet rushing by the corridor.  I ducked behind an engine plate as they looked into the room.  Bright flashlights rebounded off the far walls, curving towards infinity in the unlit darkness.  Radio buzzes signaled their departure from the engine room, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding.

The terminal was on, and the unknown user had still been logged in.  I did a scan of the interior compartments, seeking the integrity of the hull in various locations.  Maybe, by luck, the prison compartments would be reinforced against escape attempts and would appear abnormal on an integrity scan.

The computer told me it would take approximately five minutes to do a complete scan.  I opened another window that showed the personnel jackets of all the RDF personnel.  Someone wanted to take a look at Lisa's, in particular…_This doesn't look good; it appears that they are looking for her weak points…_

I glanced over her file, and was amazed at what I read.  It recounted her injuries from the beginning of her service in the RDF.  Apparently, she was in the Research and Development division straight out of the academy, and was among the redesign crew for the SDF-1.  She, under the tutelage of Dr Lang and the rest of the team, helped to design the shielding and reflex weaponry on board the vessel, after finding a way to adapt the technology to human standards.  Apparently, the first time they fired up the test generator, there was an imbalance in one of the chambers, leading to a forced evacuation of the compartment.  Lisa, even though she was only a newly commissioned Ensign, took charge of evacuating the wounded and getting everyone out of the room, and was, herself the last to leave.  Just as she went through the door, the generator blew up, and she took a load of shrapnel in her backside.  For her actions, she received her first Purple Heart, as well as her first Bronze Star.  She was credited with saving Dr Lang's life, as well as the life of the rest of the research team, though doing so caused her severe muscle damage and blood loss.

Her recovery was prolonged and extensive, and some muscles never healed properly, along with the extremely small crack at the base of her spine.  In bad weather, it would cause her pain, but it was impossible to operate on, for fears of complicating matters and immobilizing her.  The person who had opened this screen that day was looking for information like that.  There were notes at the end of the file listing certain pressure points and medicines she was vulnerable to, along with recommendations on how to apply them.

The scanner gave a muted beep, signaling it was finished with the scan.  The results were a mixed blessing; the prison was located in what had been the secondary shuttlecraft-docking bay, and, as such, had no extra shielding or energy barriers, but the easy access points worried me.  Granted, the lack of defensible points worked to my advantage when assaulting the prison, but they were a liability when I could release the prisoners, especially because I'd have to get them through an open field of fire towards the primary shuttlecraft hanger.  

The guards were stationed in groups of two, pairing off every two hours, with comm checks every half hour and full-squad sweeps of the complex every fifteen minutes.  The guards were dressed in triple-thick armored vests, strong enough to withstand a flechette grenade up close and personal.  They were armed with Beryl 96 rifles, a Polish rifle system that fired a standard NATO 5.56mm round but was modular and rugged like the AK-47 series of weapons.  It could hold thirty rounds, and the thought of sixty full-metal jacketed projectiles hurling in my general direction was discomforting, to say the least.  Not to mention the MOG's they carried, which put them on the same playing field as me.  How could I divert their attention and rescue my comrades?  More importantly, how could I do that and still recover the plague?

I decided that stealth and luck were my only allies, since my hacking skills could be outclassed by a fourth-grader with a head cold.  My only chance when I got to the shuttle deck would be to create a diversion of some kind and escape with my friends in the confusion.  The hangar was only two floors above me, and with the right amount of luck, I could just make it in time…

Then a lone flashlight shone in the darkness, filling the office with blinding illumination.  "Who's there?" came a voice.  Then came a single gunshot…

AN: The weapons of which I write are either real prototypes (Like the FMG and the Beryl), or complete figments of my imagination (like the MOG).  As I said, I like trying to keep it as realistic as possible.  That, and it allows me to use my imagination in conjunction with my interests.  Everyone; keep posting your stories!  They give me inspiration, and, in turn, make my stories more interesting to you.  Kind of self-replicating, isn't it? {grins} But very true.  And, yes, to gain self inspiration, I am basing my interpretation of Rick's desires for Lisa on my own emotions concerning someone I know…(yes, yes, I wear my heart on my sleeve), so if it seems a little odd, some of the things that happen, take that into consideration.  As always, review and critique.


	13. First Things First

**_Chapter XIII_**

The impact happened swiftly, and I realized, belatedly, that I was still standing, and the intruder had fallen.  The shot was suppressed, of course, though I didn't recall threading the suppressor on my weapon.  I dragged him into the office, frantically trying to conceal him before the next squad arrived.  I patted him down fast, and discovered (and removed) his security clearance card, his Beryl, and some extra ammunition for that and his sidearm.  Then I stuffed the body underneath the desk in the room, and then locked the door behind me as I left the room.  

The nearest elevator up was down the hall to my left, so I made my way towards it.  The ship's hallways were darkened, except for an emergency light that threw off very little light every twenty meters or so.  I dropped to a crouch and scanned for security cameras.  None were present that I could see, but the adrenaline surging through my veins and the sweat blurring my vision made for difficult visual verification.  The sides of the walls were my friends; I ducked into doorways and away from the middle of the floor as much as I could.  I used to walk down those corridors often enough as an RDF officer, and it never took me that long, but trying to outwit your own MP division is another thing, and crawling was never something I'd ever done for fun.

I paused before swiping the stolen clearance card through the lift's reader.  The ship was unusually deserted, after having been attacked by twin intruders.  I rethought my plan of attack, retraced my steps, and stole my victim's tunic and helmet, then disabled the security cameras for the five floors above and below my position.  Suitably adjusted for the current conditions, I went back to the elevator and finally swiped the stolen clearance card.  The doors opened, and I stepped inside. _Let's see, where to head first?_

I settled on sickbay first, because of it's potential for use as an interrogation center.  The ride was swift, but not fast enough, for my failings, for the first time in a long time, began to eat at me.  I should have had better control of my temper; I shouldn't have let Flynn get under my skin!  Lisa's injured, captured, probably tortured, all because of me!

I had to save her, I knew…to do any less would be dishonorable.  But how did I stand a chance to pull it off?  Rusty was right; I was flying by the seat of my pants.  The adrenaline surge had worn off, and the exhaustion was setting in again.  I rubbed my eyes and contemplated looking for a nice, quiet place to sleep.  But sleep was beyond me at that point.  I couldn't hide, the rebels would know where I was and kill me.  I had to get everyone out safely.

The elevator doors opened up, and I strode again towards sickbay.  I peered in through the window, and saw her.  Lisa was hooked up to an IV bag, and was in obvious pain.  She had been restrained to the gurney, and there were bandages around her abdomen, her forearms, and her head.  All decorum, officer to officer, departed me as I raced into the room.

I put my hand on her forehead.  "Lisa, are you okay?"

Her paroxysm of pain shook me to the core, and I felt a pain in my heart as she rasped her reply.  "Rick, is that you?"

"I'm here, Lisa, I promised I would come for you."

"I thought you would never get here," she smiled unsteadily.

"I would never leave you," I said, through tears of pure joy.

"Took ya long enough," she coughed.  "What happened?"

"Oh, well, you know the drill…had to plan the rescue, get it approved, file the appropriate paperwork, ad nauseum," I said gently.

"Typical.  Paperwork was never your strong suit," she grinned.  "Well, now that you're here, and I'm awake, let's get out of here."

I hurriedly undid the restraints holding her to the bed, and I looked at her.  "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Never better," she lied.  "The drip was only sodium pentothol, and they didn't get anything out of me.  They beat me, dripped me, and played Minmei songs all the time, but I didn't betray you or anyone."

I left the bandages on, as she still had some healing to do, and helped her to her feet.  Her head wound wasn't bad at all, so I removed her bandage there.  A deep scab flowed from the center of her forehead towards her right ear, indicating the impact of a very sharp object.  She hid it with her bangs as I looked at her with some concern.  "Really, I'm okay."

She scrounged up the flight suit she'd worn when they dragged her in there, and proceeded to change into it from her hospital gown.  Her slender body was only slightly battered, and I was entranced with the simple elegance she used, however unconsciously, to disrobe and dress again.  Even in the horrors of war, with the most pressing of situations bearing down on us, I managed to find the simplicity of her beauty as a most necessary tonic against the job ahead.

"Peeping tom," she giggled.

"No, I'm Rick. Who's this Tom guy," I smirked.

"Funny guy.  What's the plan?"

"Find the plague, rescue the others, and get the hell out of here, so we can launch the final assault."

"Nice plan.  Won't survive contact with the MP's, but it's a nice plan, anyway."

I kissed her passionately, trying to calm her fears.  "We go with what we've got, right?"

"Very true.  The plague should be in the main medlab.  How should we deal with it?"

"There's an armory down the hall, correct?"

"That's right, but what…?"

"Grab some WP grenades, mine seem to be missing."

She ran out and brought back a bundle.  I'd never had to use a white phosphorous before, but the fact it combusted in air would help us.  Hopefully, that would be enough to destroy the plague.  Two of them going off at the same time; that'll blow our chance at stealth, but a battle fortress at General Quarters isn't really a secretive place, anyway.

"On three," I said.  Lisa aimed her launcher, and I did, as well.  "Three!"

Twin globs of white phosphorous flashed into the main medical laboratory.  Once the flames were burning, and the alarms sounded, Lisa and I took to our heels trying to hit the elevator.  The MP's came around suddenly, however, and a few shots were heard thudding into the walls around us.

Lisa grabbed my FMG and started firing as she spun around, with rounds flying everywhere.  I brought the Beryl rifle to bear, trying to cook a few geese before our own were cooked.  Lisa took aim with a second burst as I let fly with my first.  Three rounds apiece, and all six found human homes.  My burst took the lead guard out with twin rounds to the abdomen and one to the heart.  Lisa's shooting was linear; one to the abdomen, one to the heart, and one to the head.

"Connect the dots, darling," I quipped.

"Okay, so I need a little more practice," she smirked.  "Have patience."

"Well, you'll get all the practice you want, cuz here they come again."

Another two guards came at us, firing full-auto with their Beryl rifles.  We fired back, again; Lisa got the hang of it.  She gripped the fore end of the gun and steadied herself, like firing an Uzi instead of an M-16.

The first guard in the second group took two rounds to the stomach and one to the chest; he was down, no question.  Lisa's target took two rounds to the lungs and one to the heart.  I noted not to ever piss her off, if she can shoot like that.  We grabbed at each other's hands and hauled ass towards the elevator.

The door shut just as another stream of bullets were heading our way.  "What was that line I made, about our wedding day," I gasped.

"The day isn't over," she replied, grimly.  "And remember, I told _you_ that, come what may, even if it's only you and I, I'll help you fight this war, and I will never leave you, even if you ordered me to."

"Nice to know I'm appreciated," I replied, leaning in for a kiss.

"From now until the end of time," she whispered, accepting my lips on hers.  We kissed for what seemed like an eternity, yet that was not long enough.  The doors opened swiftly, and we dropped out of our rushed passion into low crouches, scurrying towards the darkest reaches of the hangar.  The cell complex was nothing more than a simple stockade; sheets of triple-folded compressed steel locked together.  There were also three guards on duty, each armed with Beryl rifles and MOG's.  I looked at Lisa; her emerald eyes shone with a dedication rarely seen before; I hadn't seen a look like that since before the Line.  I popped a netting round in my MOG and took careful aim at the three guards; maybe stealth would work in our favor this time…

AN: The mojo is flowing again, like molasses in January.  BTW, I made a mixed audio file containing Lancer's version of "We Will Win" and some other voices (Non-Robotech) in a tribute to 9-11 a while back.  Email me for info, and, perhaps, a copy, if you like.  And, a few chapters back, I referenced a Swedish compass.  For those not in on the joke, a Swedish compass is a snuffbox with a mirror in it.  It will never show you where you're going or where you've been, it'll only show you who's lost. (old Swedish joke, there).  Review and critique, as always.


	14. Hand to Hand, Eye to Eye, Knee to Groin

**_Chapter XIV_**

My ear buddy radio spoke to me.  "Rick, this is E.S.S. Enterprise.  We're taking the liberty of launching an aerial diversion.  Seems the female Captain Sterling wants to gather some of the glory."

"I copy, Enterprise.  Catch you in a bit," I whispered back. 

The lead guard took notice of the whispers from my direction and started off towards my position.  I rose up, took careful aim, and fired.  The net flew out and toward the three guards, enmeshing them in fine layers of nylon and silicone fibers and weighed down with fishing weights. We collected the weaponry our prey had left, and secured them to the nearest pole.  Lisa fired a burst from her 9mm weapon, shattering the lock and throwing open the doors to the asylum.

"I just had a thought," I said.

"How inconvenient," she returned.

"Why don't we use the guards' keys next time?"

"Logical," she smirked.  "I knew you had a brain in your head for some reason."

I grinned.  "Hurry up, our friends await."

Lisa stood watch as I recovered the keys, and then took the point as we went inside.  Before I left the doorway, I dragged all our captured weaponry, consisting of three Beryl rifles, three MOG's, two FMG's, and an unholy array of hand-thrown grenades, as well as the guard's comm gear, inside the barricade for safekeeping. 

We encountered Max first; his uniform was ripped, and he was sporting a shiner.  He hadn't been there long, but he looked horrible.  "Glad to see you guys," he whimpered. "They didn't hurt me much, but I'm afraid it'll hamper me teaching Miriya how to play tennis."

"Is your trigger finger okay," I asked.

"Flight certified," he winced.

"Take a rifle and secure the doorway; we'll wake and rescue the others."

Max complied, and Lisa went around the corner; the prison complex was made of green sheets of steel fabricating the outer walls, and sheets of folded steel partitioning the inside into three 'rooms', containing a few prisoners in each.  We rounded the first corner and found Claudia and Vanessa, each with their hands cuffed to bars over their heads and their legs bound together underneath them.  They had duct tape across their mouths, and bruises on their faces and arms.  Lisa ran forward, hastily trying to free our friends.  "Oh, my God, Claudia," Lisa sobbed softly.  "Are you guys all right?"

"Better now, since the cavalry's arrived.  We had almost given up hope."

"Yeah, we were wondering what had taken you so long," Vanessa chimed in.

I looked them over for evidence of broken bones and cuts, but, aside from the chafing from their restraints, they appeared pretty well off.  No signs of malnutrition, but the beginnings of dehydration and slight disorientation were evident.  There were also some serious welts on their faces.  We helped them to their feet, and had them go towards Max, who was parceling out the weaponry.  Lisa took the room to the left, I went to the right.  "Lisa, I found Admiral Gloval; he's good to go."

"Roger that, I found Kim and Sammie.  Let's get this show on the road."

Max whispered, "I think we have trouble."

"What makes you say that," I asked.

"I just listened to their tactical net.  We have a full assault squad on the way, with heavy weaponry and orders to kill on sight."

"What's their ETA?"

"Three minutes, five tops.  Depends on their proximity to the prison level."

I pressed the ear buddy in my right ear.  "You getting this, Enterprise?"

"Roger, Alpha Leader.  Diversion launched five minutes ago, and will be in range momentarily."

"Gotcha, Rusty.  Over and out."

"Miriya and the rest of Skull Group are launching a diversionary assault on the SDF-1, like Max and I planned.  We'll have a window of opportunity, people.  Let's scram."

"Captain Hunter, I suggest another plan than merely escape."

"What's that, Admiral Gloval?"

"This may be just what we need to regain the upper hand.  There is a secret elevator to the rear of this hangar, it connects to my ready room.  An older Earth tradition, to save the command staff, is to make an executive escape pod readily available to save as many people as possible.  We can take it to the bridge and recapture the ship."

"Sounds good, Admiral, but how do we bypass security," Lisa asked.

"Well, we're armed, aren't we?"

"Yes, but wouldn't they anticipate us using the elevator," Max prompted.

"Hm, you may be right, Max.  We need to pull off a flanking maneuver, then."

A burst of automatic fire came at us.  Claudia shouted, "Hold that thought, sir, cuz here they come!"

A rocket-propelled grenade flashed by the wall of the prison and tore through the hangar door like a fist through tinfoil.  Rifles barked their unceasing hatred of all flesh trapped within their sights, and we sought refuge from the debate heading our way.  Admiral Gloval took up a Beryl rifle and returned fire, with seven of his eight rounds finding new residence in flesh and bone.  Seven security soldiers went down with gaping chest wounds or headshots.  Claudia, Kim, and Vanessa each took MOG's and returned fire.  I tossed Sammie my FMG, and Lisa took Max's, as he took a Beryl for his own use.  As the Admiral set up the defensive perimeter, he rasped, "Hunter, find us another exit, the party is getting a little too hot."

I spun around, glanced at the breach in the blast door, and glanced out over the lake below.  Right above us and to the right of our docking level, across an intervening stretch of water, there was a newly installed helipad made to service the commanding officers.  There was a Black Hawk chopper on the pad at all times, as well as an Apache gunship.  I motioned for Max, signaling that he would sweep to the right, and he nodded.  I aimed my wristwatch upwards at the base of the control tower, as did Max, and we readied ourselves for the long climb ahead of us.

"Holy acrobatics, Batman," Max quipped.

"That's the worst line I've ever heard," I retorted.

"And this method of ascent isn't a bad line, as well?"

"You've made your point."

We clambered to the flight deck and found three guards.  One ran up to me, swinging his rifle wildly like a club.  I ducked, and connected with his solar plexus for a stunning punch.  Max took a swift kick to the ribs and missed on his attempt to return a punch.  My target found a new residence in the lake, while Max tried to recover his footing for another attack.  His attacker's next punch swung wide, and he connected his foot to the guard's gut.  The guard followed his brethren into the drink.

I looked over the edge at the guards as they fell, and sketched a brief salute as they went to their doom.  Max gave me a startled look, but raced to the Apache chopper and started the flight prep.  Overhead, Miriya and the Skulls were mixing it up but good with Macross' defenders, and it seemed that our guys were getting the upper hand.  I radioed, "Max, secure the hangar, I've got another plan."

"Roger that, boss."

I saw the window to the Captain's ready room, and, at that same instant, General Maistroff saw me.  He sent his three bodyguards after me, then turned tail and fled.  My Beryl was almost out of ammunition, and my FMG was now in Sammie's hands, so I ran towards the Black Hawk and took control of it's 30mm chain gun, hoping to take a few of those bastards out.  They took the bait and chased me across the tarmac.  I heard the shots whiz by my ears and under my feet.  _These guys could use a few lessons from the Blind Master,_ I thought.  They didn't live long enough to regret their firing skills.  I grimly looked over the freshly killed crewmen and then stared at the bridge.  This war was either almost over or just beginning; I didn't know which.

AN: Gloval's training will be addressed in a future chapter, and who knows, I may even do a chapter from his perspective.  Just, please, R&R as always; I need good, solid input.


	15. Too good to be true

**_Chapter XV_**

I looked into the captain's ready room, and saw that there were no occupants; Maistroff apparently blew up his captured laptop, and the office was left in disarray.  I strode out onto the bridge proper with my MOG raised and loaded for dispersal fire with some flechette shotgun rounds I'd scrounged from the armory.

"Everyone, freeze," I shouted. The three replacement bridge bunnies raised their arms and shrieked in horror as I aimed at them.

My ear buddy chirped.  "Rick, the skies are clear and the city is free.  All enemy forces are fleeing."

"Good, Miriya.  Secure the perimeter, this isn't over yet."

"Copy, Skull Leader."

I tried scanning for the others, a few levels down, and all I got was six life forms and a report of weapons fire.  I told one of my captives, "Unlock all interior doors and hatches.  Let the others up here now!"

"Attempting manual override, Captain," the operations officer said.

"Good, hurry it up."

A few moments went by, and I kept the pistol trained on the officer's head.  "They're open, and the others are on their way to the bridge."

"Good." I relaxed my stance somewhat and glanced at the monitor.  They had entered the third shaft and started towards the bridge.

The relative ease of the mission started to worry me, and I asked, "How many people remain on this ship?"

"The three of us, the people heading here, and you," the ops officer, named Christine, said.

"Aw, shit!"

The woman at the far end of the bridge swore to herself, and I asked, "What's wrong?"

"The elevator is stuck; it can't reach the bridge."

I swore and decided to try to get it to work myself, when a klaxon went off.

"What's happening?"

"Someone hit the self destruct button, Captain Hunter," Christine said.  "It's irreversible from here, and we can't evacuate New Macross fast enough."

"How long do we have?"

"Three hours.  Then, the Line will look like a fireworks display next to our explosion…"

AN: I know, it's a short chapter, but I had too much to cram in and not a good way to do it, so I just shifted the action a little bit so I could get to the next phase.  This concludes the second part of our trilogy.  Please stay tuned for the next installment.


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